


Hindsight

by Ann_Ominous



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Asshole Vegeta, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Slow Burn, Some Slash, Vegebul, loveable vegeta, non-con suggested
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 114,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann_Ominous/pseuds/Ann_Ominous
Summary: MEDIEVAL AU: Princess Bulma's home is attacked in the night by an unknown enemy. She flees to her homelands strongest ally, the country of Vegeta to beg the King for his army's aid, and finds an unexpected friend his his proud, gruff eldest Son Vegeta.  VegeBul, Slow burn.





	1. The North

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musicofthespheres](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicofthespheres/gifts).



> I promise this is more straightforward then my last fic. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> .  
> .  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cold was something Bulma wasn’t used to, nor was it something she was overly fond of. It stung her flesh and made her bones ache. None of her southern, warm clothing was adequate for such weather - but she’d left in such a rush that she’d had no time to get a heavy cloak. The only thing she did have was the hooded house robe, made from lovely pale white fabric that sat around her shoulders like a cloud. A cold, heartless cloud. 

“Princess, we should hurry,” Lady Unus asked and touched her back lightly to get her attention. Her thick black gloves were cold against Bulma’s bare shoulder blades. 

“Yes, I just… It’s been so long since I’ve seen anyone from this family- and I don’t exactly have fond memories of the few times we did meet.” She turned to look at her companion, a beautiful woman with shoulder-length blond hair, wearing heavily used full plate armor. While it was covered in dings, scuffs, and scratches, it was meticulously well cared for and shone in places where there was nothing to mar the surface. The armor hid her impressively muscled and curvy body, and her boots made her look a good three inches taller than Bulma, though they were the same height. She was a Knight, Bulma’s bodyguard, and her best friend. 

“I know, Princess. But you’ll freeze out here if we don’t hurry.” 

“Don’t leave my side, okay?” She reached out for her friend's hand and squeezed it. Unus squeezed back, gently. 

“How would you protect me if I did?” Unus asked and smiled reassuringly. 

“Either go or come here,” said Ember from behind them, his voice annoyed and dripping with longing to be near Bulma. She turned, and went to him, warming as soon as one flaming wing closed around her. He craned his neck to nuzzle her side while she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. 

“I wish you could come,” she said again, knowing full well how useless this conversation was. 

“Princess, if you didn’t know Ember, and you were at home in your castle, and an armored warrior approached on the back of a great, flaming, winged horse that looked like death on hooves wouldn’t you attack first, and-” 

“Yes, of course. We know why he’s staying, I just-” 

“She’s cold, Unus. Why didn’t you bring her a cloak?” Ember huffed. 

“I was busy,” she answered angrily. In fact, she had been busy. Fighting off attackers. She’d saved Bulma’s life so many times just today. 

“She saved my life, Ember. There was no time to pause, even for a cloak. Once I’m inside, I’ll explain to them that you’re my ally and friend. Then I’m sure they’ll let you in.” 

“Alright. I’ll just eat some rabbits or foxes while I wait. There seem to be a lot of them out and about in these woods.” He turned his head to the side to examine the unmoving bushes. 

“Ok. I’ll be back soon.” She kissed his cheek, right under his flickering red eye and followed Unus away from their little clearing, and towards the castle. 

There was a large town between them in the woods and the castle of the Northern King, but since it was hours from sunrise, the two were sure they would be able to get through town without much in the way of hassle. While neither thought any of the common people of this town would recognize Bulma as the Princess of the Isle of Life, she was dressed oddly for the North, to top it off she was clearly a high class, wealthy woman. That made her a target for thieves and rapists. 

But Unus, tall, armored, and armed at her side, was a good deterrent. Most petty thieves and rapists wouldn’t risk death at the hands of a Knight to attack Bulma when there were so many easier targets. And, this was the King’s City. Even as barbaric as the Northerners were, Bulma couldn’t imagine too much crime went on with all the Knights and Guards running around. 

“The cold will keep most people inside, but we need to hurry,” Unus warned. “We’re too vulnerable out here.” So, they hurried. The main road into town went straight through it to the Castle's main gate, which gave Bulma hope of not being in the cold for too long. 

They had to cross a long-frozen field to get to the road, and it was a relief to step on even stone after stumbling over rocks and uneven frozen earth. The city was dark except for the few torches along the roads and the occasional candle in a building's window. Most of the houses here were built from stone and wood, with pointed roofs, and thick wooden shutters to cover the windows in the cold- if they even had windows. Smoke drizzled out of most chimneys, making the air smell horrible, in Bulma’s opinion. 

The only sounds were of their footsteps, but mostly Unus’s, as her armor clanged a bit with each movement. She had gotten good at keeping the clanging to a minimum, but if anyone was listening they would just think it was a guard. 

Every so often they would hear a loud snore, or a cough coming from one of the homes. Most of the buildings along this main road were shops, with what looked like homes above them, and often Bulma would find herself turning to look at a window while a long, ragged cough filled the air. 

“Princess!” Unus hissed and pulled Bulma along by the hand. She followed silently. The further into the town they got, the more coughing they could hear. Hardly a home seemed to have someone who wasn’t coughing.  
“Is this normal?” She asked Unus, not sure why she thought Unus would know more about the North than she did, neither of them had been here before. Unus shrugged, rather than speaking. So, they kept moving. 

The road wound a bit as it led them to the castle, but the curves were wide and gentle, so a cart driver would be able to see around the bend. They had managed a steady pace until they heard voices ahead. Unus grabbed Bulma around the waist and pulled her into the nearest side road and pushed her flat against the side of the building. They listened for a moment to the voices. 

“- she was all crying and pleading for a tip! Well, I told her that if she wanted a tip then she was gonna have to kiss mine if you know what I mean!” One voice said, and the other laughed. They could hear footsteps, and the drunken laughing, but no armor clanging. Not a guard. 

Unus silently pulled Bulma down the much narrower side street, and out of earshot of the laughing men. Bulma knew Unus could take them. She could win in a fight against 10 normal men at once, but the noise of such a fight would only serve to wake up more people, and as guests seeking refuge with the King, the last thing they needed to do was leave a trail of bodies on their way in. 

So, they tried working their way through the smaller roads towards the tall Castle looming in the night. Bulma and Unus were already exhausted from the 9-hour long flight on ember, and the cold wasn’t doing much to keep either of them alert at this point. It was like the air was leaching the energy from them. 

There was more coughing the further they got from the main road, and the further they got from the wealthy homes along it. More poor people meant more sick people. As they turned down a road that seemed to go in the same direction as the main road, they passed a house. It was twice the size of the usual house, though it was about half as clean, and twice as shabby looking as either of its neighbors. Inside was the sound of dozens and dozens of coughs. The shabby structure didn’t even have window shutters, just thick curtains. Bulma stopped dead in her tracks as she looked at the sign over the door. 

“Infirmary.” 

“Princess, no, we have to go.” 

Bulma ignored her, and went right up to the window, and pulled the curtain aside. The smell was so awful that she nearly vomited right then, but after a moment of holding her breath, she was able to choke it down and look past the curtain. 

It was filled with people lying on cots, and stacked beds, so close to one another that many of them were bumping elbows. They were all bundled in blankets and coats and shivering against the icy night air. 

A hand on her arm pulled her away from the window, but it was too late. She jerked her arm out of Unus’s hand, “I’ll only be a moment.” 

“Princess-” 

“Trust me,” she snapped, and quietly pulled the door open. There was a midwife sitting by the door at a little desk, her head lulled back, and eyes closed, a bucket of sick in her arms. Bulma looked her over, and carefully snuck past her. Her soft-soled shoes were quiet, and no floorboard creak was louder than the coughing that echoed around this place like a choir. 

She made her way to the back, taking a second to look at each and every person before moving up the stairs to the 2nd floor. What she found left her cold. 

Children. 

So many children - even babies. Her heart ached as she crept upstairs eager to help. Eager to save them. She passed by each sleeping person, pausing just long enough to see their chest rise with breath, before moving on to the next, and the next. Then up to the third floor, and - this time, it was young women, sleeping in upright positions, and holding babies. 

She did the same for them, this time waiting for each baby to make a noise or breathe, and each mother before moving on to the next. No one here was dead, it seemed. 

But now, it was quiet. Very quiet as the coughing had stopped with each person she looked at. Sneaking out took much longer because now she had to be more aware of the floorboards. She wished she’d started at the top, but she hadn’t thought of it. She’d been too zealous and hadn’t thought ahead. She mentally berated herself until she was at the bottom of the steps. 

But they all seemed to be sleeping very deeply from the snoring. When she finally got out of the infirmary, Unus was standing there, arms crossed, looking furious. But she didn’t speak. “Trust me,” Bulma whispered. Unus just sneered and grabbed her elbow to pull her along. But now that she’d started, Bulma couldn’t stop. Every time she heard a cough she’d dart over to try and peak in the window. Sometimes, it was possible to pull the shutter open and get a look at the person coughing. 

But as they got closer to the castle and the homes got nicer, they were harder to get too. Most of them had locked shutters or a fence around the house. Bulma ached to help them, but she couldn’t risk her and Unus’s lives by trying to break in. They were guests here, or at least they hoped to be guests. 

They ended up taking a winding path to the castle. Often going down dead ends and finding some roads that just didn't connect with others. This town wasn’t built on a grid system like they used in the Isle of Life, but Bulma could also see the genius of that. If one didn’t take the main road, it would be impossible to get to the castle, and the main road, of course, would be heavily protected in case of invasion. 

Why didn’t the Isle of Life do the same? She wondered bitterly. Eventually, they found their way to the main road again. It was a wide enough road that they both felt very exposed walking down the center of the road, so they hugged the side all the way to the castle’s gate. As they approached, the guards on either side of the gate stood up straight and watched them cautiously. 

“Good - Good morning, I think?” Bulma chuckled, her voice a little cracked from the cold. “Please, pardon the suddenness of my appearance, but I am Princess Bulma, of the Isle of Life, and it’s urgent I speak with King Vegeta.” 

The guards just stared at her. They looked between her, and Unus, and back to her. Her story was wild, but she definitely looked high class, though her dress was dirty and torn. They looked at one another, and then back to her. 

“Really? The Princess of the Isle of Life? You expect us to believe-?” Bulma removed her hood and pulled her pale blue hair out from under the collar of her housecoat. That gave them pause. Stunned pause. Unus smirked and used their shocked moment to knock some dirt off the breast of her full plate to make the Brevis House coat of arms clearly visible. They didn’t look away from Bulma though, not until Unus rapped a knuckle on her breastplate to get their attention. They looked at it and frowned. They were clearly torn. If they woke the king, and she was a fake they’d be punished, and if they didn’t wake the king and she was real, they’d be punished. 

Bulma smiled reassuringly.  
“Is Sister Orache still in the castle? She was the Prince’s nursemaid when they visited the Isle of Life eight years ago. She’d recognize me and then you wouldn't’ have to bother a member of the royal family until you were sure of my credentials.” 

They exchanged another look. 

“I know the Princes are all far too old for a Nursemaid anymore, but perhaps she’s still-” 

“She is. Er- Princess.” They paused again, frightened of the wrath of their King. Each minute delayed, the cold seeped further into Bulma’s bones and she felt as if she’d never be warm again. 

Finally, the one on the right called to have the gate opened. Beyond, in the courtyard was another guard, this one huge. 

“This woman claims to be Princess Bulma of the Isle of Life and -” 

As the Guard got closer, Bulma could see his face. He was older and scarred from many battles - but she recognized him. He had been with the Royal Family when they visited. Bulma was so relieved, that she looked him over without meaning too. He paused mid-step and frowned as he stepped down on his left leg. He did a squat and kicked his left leg a few times frowning down at it. It looked foolish, but Bulma understood. 

“Sir Nappa!” She did a curtsy that was a bit low for a Knight. He looked a bit surprised by her bow, but he returned the gesture. 

“I remember her. Let’s hope she doesn’t have frostbite from standing around while you two idiots ogled at her,” he said and tossed another look at his leg. 

“Are you alright, Sir Nappa?” Bulma asked, frowning curiously at his leg as if she didn’t understand what had happened. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, actually. I’ve had trouble with this knee for years and it suddenly stopped hurting - I wonder if I -?” He trailed off and shook his head. “Princess, my apologies. You must be freezing. Come with me. I’ll have you wait someplace warm while I wake the king. I assume it’s urgent if you’re showing up on our door at this hour?” 

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” She tried not to think too much about what she had to tell the King, else she lose her resolve and start crying now. 

“Very well. Follow me,” He said and led Bulma and Unus into the Castle. It was a very intimidating castle - huge, and mostly polished stone. The only warmth and comfort it gave was from the odd tapestry and thick blood-red rug. They approached the Throne room, and for a moment Bulma thought he was going to leave her and Unus in the massive, cold hall to wait, but he took them past it, to a study nearby. 

It was cold and dark in the study too. Bulma had so been hoping for a fire and heat. It was a room lined with books, with two plush chairs draped in animal furs. “I’ll have a handmaid light you a fire and bring you something warm to eat and drink while I wake the King.” He explained, seeing the touch of disappointment on her face at the dark room. He gestured to one of the other guards and pointed to the door. “You guard the Princess,” he ordered. 

“Yes, sir!” This guard was also rather tall and muscled with thick black hair. Nappa took a few candles from the desk and lit them off the torch in the hall and set them around the room. He then bowed and closed the door behind him. 

Bulma lifted one of the many furs laying around off the chair and draped it over herself, while Unus stood tensely by the door. 

“What’s wrong?” Bulma asked. 

“What you did - back there. And all these guards - they’re all men here, did you notice? And they’re huge. Do they make normal sized people up here?” She hissed and crossed her arms. 

“I have a plan, Unus,” Bulma explained. “And the guards here have no reason to attack us, and plenty of reasons not too. The Vegeta Royal family has always been our Ally, by marriage and blood. My Aunt married a Northern Prince, and she was very happy. They’re tough, but honest people.” 

“I don’t know if I could win in a battle with any of these men. How can I protect you from someone like Nappa, when his arm is almost longer than my whole body?” 

“Do you think he could kill you in one hit? You? With that armor?” That gave Unus pause and she looked down angrily. 

“What’s your plan, anyway? Explain to me how that wasn’t a stupid choice?” 

“Just trust me.” Bulma got up from the plush chair and went to slip into Unus’s arms. She was clearly angry, but she didn’t resist and held Bulma, careful not to hurt her with her armor. 

“If you don’t trust their honor, trust that their interests line up with ours. Trust their self-preservation. She lifted her head from Unus’s shoulder and draped one of the furs around her shoulders. The blond smiled despite her mood. 

“We can’t do this here. It’s not safe for as long as we’re in the North.” Bulma kissed Unus’s cheek and left her arms reluctantly. 

There was a knock at the door before it opened. A handmaid stepped inside, weighed down with logs. She bowed anyway and set to building a fire. Not long after she arrived, another handmaid came with a tray full of food, and two mugs of warm wine, and left it on the table for them. She didn’t linger, and as soon as the fire was going the other one left too without so much as a word. 

“Odd.” 

“I suspect normal, here,” Bulma said, before eagerly going for the mug of warm wine and standing as close to the fire as she could get. Gods, she was cold. She was hungry too, but that could wait until she could feel her limbs again. The hot wine was some of the best she’d ever had. She’d never liked spiced hot wine much but maybe she just needed the cold to appreciate it. 

While she sipped the wine and huddled by the fire she looked over the tray of food. It was almost all meat of some kind. Sausages, bacon, steak bites wrapped in pastry - all of it was pretty good, and she was so hungry that she didn’t have a complaint in her mind. Unus seemed pleased too, as she ate her half of the plate and drank her wine by the fire.  
Neither woman wanted to move from their warm spot. With full bellies, and a head full of wine Bulma was about ready to fall asleep when the door opened after a short knock. It was Sir Nappa again. 

“Princess, I hope you’re feeling a bit better now that you’ve eaten and warmed up. The king will see you now if you’ll come with me.” He stepped aside and gestured to the door. The last thing she wanted to do was leave the heat of this room, but she knew she must. 

The hall felt colder than she’d been before once she stepped out into it and hugged her housecoat more tightly. She could hear Unus’s little gasp at the frigid air from behind her as they followed Nappa the short walk down the corridor to the Throne Room. 

The throne room was a tall, narrow room more like a hall that ended in a King than a proper room. The ceiling was painted with historical, bloody, horrible-looking battles. Beautiful huge fireplaces lined the room, but it was wide enough that the new fires had yet to spread to the middle where Bulma was walking with Unus to approach the King and his children. 

The King's Throne sat in the middle, framed by three smaller thrones on either side. His was easily the largest, and most ornate. It seemed to be carved out of Ivory, but Bulma was too exhausted to care. 

The king was sitting on his throne, wearing a thick cloak with a fur pelt for a collar. To his right was his eldest son, Vegeta, then third born, Raditz, and this fifth born Tarble. Then, to the king's left was his 2nd eldest son Goku, and his fourth born child and only daughter Fasha, beyond her, was an empty throne. Where was the queen? 

Bulma remembered the sickness in town and, without turning her head as she approached, looked over each member of the royal family except Raditz and the guards around them. When she was close enough, but not too close to be rude, she did the lowest curtsy that was acceptable for a princess to do. 

“Princess Bulma. Welcome. Nappa hasn’t told me much, but I’m to assume since you’ve arrived in the middle of the night without a lick of proper Northern clothing that there is troubling news,” The King said. His voice had become much gruffer than she recalled from her youth. 

“Thank you for taking us in, your majesty.” She bowed her head again for good measure and removed her hood. While her housecoat’s hood was thin, it was something and her ears stung from the cold. She didn’t know how to word the news to soften the blow but these were Northerners. All of them. They hated what they called fancy talk that muddled the truth. Good. Her mind was too muddled and exhausted to come up with a way to sugar coat the news. “Our Palace was attacked in the middle of the night. They all wore black masks and no sigils to speak of. It was so sudden - they used some sort of gas to kill everyone. Unus and I managed to fight our way through and find that my father-” her voice cracked. She’d not yet said these words out loud, or even really let herself think them. Tears leapt to her eyes. She blinked them away and looked up at the King. Beside him, his eldest son was whispering to a handmaid. A stab of anger pierced Bulma’s mind. She was telling them that her father was dead, and he was asking for a snack or something? She tore her eyes away from the eldest son, who looked so much like his father that had the elder not had facial hair and smile lines around his eyes, she’d not have been able to tell them apart. 

“They killed my father,” She choked. “They killed almost everyone - it was a miracle we made it out at all.” 

“So, these nameless attackers have taken the castle?” 

“And the capital. It looked like they had men swarming the place when we were fleeing.” 

“How did you escape?” He asked, leaning forward. She couldn’t tell if he was curious or suspicious. 

“I’m blessed to be companions with an incredible being. We call him Ember, and he’s a winged horse of sorts. Intelligent as a person and able to speak. He’s been a secret up until now because my father always wanted me to have a secret way to escape in the event of an attack, that no enemy knew about and would have thought to prepare for. He looks terribly wicked. Huge, black, and covered in flames that burn only those he wants it too - but he’s a loyal companion and a good soul.” 

There was a long pause. The King shifted in his Throne a bit and stroked his chin. 

“You flew here, on a wicked looking black horse covered in flames?” He clarified. “Over a thousand miles since this happened?” 

“Yes, Your Highness. It happened last night.” 

“Which is why I’ve yet to hear word of this takeover, I’m sure?” He sounded skeptical, and she couldn’t blame him. 

“I can go fetch Ember now, as proof. He’s waiting nearby. I just didn’t want to ride him to your front gate because of his threatening appearance. My father is always -” 

She stopped short at the mention of her father. No, her father “WAS”. Not “is”. He’ll never be “is” again, and that thought broke her. She started shaking and cupped her hands over her mouth to keep the noise in - she must look terribly weak to these Northerners - she was so embarrassed, and her chest ached so much for her father that the tears spilled freely now. 

Soon, her chest was heaving with sobs as she fell to the cold stone ground - no longer able to hold herself up any longer. Something heavy and soft landed over her shoulders out of nowhere and she looked up, confused to see Prince Vegeta crouching in front of her. He’d draped a thick fur-lined cloak over her shoulders. 

“Father, perhaps we can speak with her further on the matter after she’s had some sleep,” he said. She looked up at him, and over his shoulder to the rest of his family, expecting to see boredom and distrust on their faces, but instead, she saw pity and sorrow. 

“Of course.” The King stood up and stepped down from his throne. “Nappa-” 

“I’ll take her to a guest chamber,” The Prince said cutting his father off. 

“Good. Use the pink room. Nappa, have a handmaid sent there to get a fire going.” 

“Already did, Your Majesty,” he said with a little smile. When the King stared him down for a moment, a tiny smile playing at the corner of his lips, Nappa added: “It was obviously the only guest room you’d use for a southern princess, so I sent a few handmaids to get it ready for her right after she arrived.” That made the King chuckle, and slap Nappa on the back. Nappa just grinned. 

“The Pink room then,” Prince Vegeta nodded and looked back down at Bulma, who’d managed to quiet her sobs. He looked her up and down, then without a word slipped both arms under her and lifted her. She felt so weak that she didn’t mind. If he wanted to show off and act all manly, then she’d let him, and if he was doing it out of genuine kindness, then even better. 

Tired as she was though, she couldn’t stop thinking about the empty throne.  
“Prince Vegeta?” She asked as he carried her down the long corridors, Unus close behind.  
“Yes?”  
“Where’s Queen Gine? Is she well?” Bulma asked, frowning worriedly at him. He looked down at her, brow raised, and shook his head. That’s the only answer she needed. Of course, the royal family understood her pain at losing her father, when they were about to lose a mother. That is if Bulma didn’t find her first.  
“Do you have good doctors here?” 

“Yes.” 

A little panic flared in Bulma. What if she died tonight? She needed to see her - but she couldn’t ask Vegeta. He’d never take someone who was basically a stranger to see his sick mother at this hour. So, she didn’t. She let him carry her all the way to the west wing, and into a room that was completely out of place in this castle. It startled her, it was so different. She actually looked back over his shoulder to make sure they hadn’t teleported to the south. 

She understood at once why it was called the pink room. Unlike the rest of the castle, the walls weren’t stone, but rather smooth wood painted a muted rose, with lovely white molding and a marble fireplace. Everything screamed comfort and elegance in ways the rest of this castle didn’t.  
“Wow,” she said. “I take it this room was made special for southern dignitaries?” 

“Yes, the only other room in the castle like it is my mother’s. She loved the look of your castle in the Isle of Life, and wanted something similar for herself, and to make guests from the south more comfortable. The wood keeps it unbearably warm in here, though I expect you’ll find it comfortable.” He set her down just past the doorway and immediately stepped back over the threshold. 

“Prince Vegeta?” She asked confused at his odd behavior. 

“Sleep well, Princess. The handmaids will come fetch you in the morning. If you need anything in the meantime, pull that rope to ring for someone,” he said gesturing to a rope on the wall by the bed. 

“Thank you so much Prince Vegeta. This is lovely. Sleep well, and my apologies for disturbing you all at this hour.” Bulma curtsied to him, and Unus bowed behind her. 

“It’s no problem. The early warning might well do us good. It’s a shame about your father. He was a mighty king.” 

He was a good man, she thought. But she smiled as tears stung her eyes again. That was a high compliment up here. 

“Lady,” Vegeta said, turning to Unus. “I’ll show you to the knight’s quarters-” 

“Your Highness.” She bowed. “I will stay with my princess to protect her.” That made Vegeta give them both an odd look. 

“In the same room?” 

“Yes.” 

“You plan on standing guard all night and not sleeping?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’ll have guards come stand by and protect her. You’ll be of no help to her if you pass out from exhaustion.” 

“Your Highness, I am Lady Unus Octo, Knight of the Isle of Life and the Emerald City. It is my sworn oath to never leave the Princess’s side in times of danger, and she has never been in more danger than she is now. To force me to leave would be to force me to break a sacred Oath.” 

“Prince Vegeta, it’s really alright. She’s been my protector for several years now. I trust her more than anyone.” 

“Alright,” he shrugged. “I’ll post a few guards at your door. Good night.” He bowed and left. 

As soon as he was gone, Unus closed the door and sagged against it. “That was close.” 

“It still might be. They’ll probably just assume it’s a southern thing. Let me help you with that.” Bulma went to Unus’ side and began helping her with the many straps that held her full plate on. Both women were in need of a washing, but both were too exhausted. 

Bulma barred the door with the large wooden plank mounted on the wall, and the two fell asleep in the beautiful four poster bed at once. 

Unfortunately, stress wouldn’t let Bulma sleep long. She woke up a bit later, how much later she couldn’t say. It was still night, but night lasted so long here she wouldn’t have been surprised if it was actually morning. Regardless, she slipped out of bed and pulled her dirty housecoat back on over her filthy night dress. Thank god she’d worn the floor length one that night. She usually slept in things with far less coverage. 

Unus was still sleeping, so Bulma crept out of the room on her tiptoes. The guards turned to her;  
“Princess? Can we help you?” One asked. He had more stars on his shoulders, so she assumed he was the higher rank. 

“No, thank you.” The less she said the better. Any explanation could be answered with the guards saying they’d have someone come to the pink room for her, and she didn’t want that. She wanted to be alone just long enough to find the queen. No easy feat, for sure. 

The castle's layout was as confusing as the cities had been. She tried door after door after door until she found what she’d been hoping for. A linen closet with servant’s clothes. She slipped inside and found a handmaid's garb that would fit her, put it on, covered her hair in a bonnet and slapped a good bit of dirt on her face to hide who she was. 

Now disguised, she left the closet and continued her search. It was impossible. She’d been out of her room for nearly an hour now and she was sure Unus would notice her absence and wake up soon. She was about to turn back when she found the currently empty dining hall. Nearby had to be a kitchen with more maids. 

She tried the server's door to the side and found a bustling kitchen full of people preparing for breakfast. 

“What are you doing?” Another maid barked. “You’re not stationed in the kitchen-” 

“It’s urgent, a guard told me to fetch the Queen some warm water and tea. You know how they are, not a single care that I’m not stationed here,” she lied easily. She’d worry later about how easy the lies came now. 

The other handmaid, a dark-haired woman with arms thicker than Bulma’s by half, sneered and nodded. She fetched some tea and handed it to her. 

“Kota!” She barked, and another handmaid sprang from the chaos, her arms twice as thick as Bulma’s.  
“Get a bucket of hot water for the queen and take it to her with this one. Hurry!” 

The burly woman nodded and fetched a large wooden bucket and got it filled by a chef from a tea kettle. Then, they were off. This other handmaid seemed to know the way, almost running as she rushed up the twisting, winding corridor of the castle until they were climbing up a spiral staircase to a tall tower. 

Bulma struggled to keep up, even though this woman had a bucket of hot water she was much faster up the stairs. Eventually, she caught up to her at the top. Six guards were standing by.  
They barely paid them a glance as the burly woman slowly opened the door and looked inside. She turned to frown at Bulma, who just shrugged like she didn’t know what was going on. 

“They are sleeping!” She hissed. “Who told you to come up here?” 

“A guard. Insisted the queen needed tea and hot water. Is she really asleep?” Bulma craned her next to get a look over the woman's shoulder. She could just make out lumps that had to be the queen. The King wasn’t in sight. If she was sick, they probably kept them apart. 

“I’ll leave her the tea then,” Bulma hissed and slipped past the burly woman to creep around the massive four-poster bed, and across the thick, lavish rugs to set the tea by the fire, where it would stay warm. While she was there, she stoked the fire a bit. She turned and looked at the sleeping queen. She was covered in blankets and seemed to have a cold sweat - but as soon as Bulma looked at her, the wheezing left her chest, and her breathing quieted to what was normal. 

The Burly woman gestured angrily at her to hurry up, so she crept across the room and out the door. Once they were down the stairs, she turned and slapped Bulma on the shoulder, hard enough to knock her into the wall. 

“What were you thinking, new girl? You believed that guard? You think he’d ask a newbie like you to deliver anything to the queen?” 

“You believed me!” 

“I did until I saw she was still sleeping! Now she’s gonna wake up-” 

“To a warm room and a warm cup of tea! I won’t be so trusting from now on, thanks,” she spat bitterly and stormed off, leaving the strong woman to lug the bucket of water back to the kitchens. 

But she wasn’t mad. She was pleased that she’d managed to sneak into the queen's room. Her feeling of accomplishment didn’t last long, though. Eventually, she gave up trying to find her way back to the Pink Room and dipped into a closet to shed the handmaid's clothes and put her old dirty ones back on. Now she only needed to ask a guard to escort her back to the Pink Room. 

She was back in bed next to a still sleeping Unus in no time.


	2. The Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Unus are forced to be polite and engaged as the barbaric Northerners celebrate the miraculous healing of their Queen with a tournament, and Unus can't help but join in.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 

Bulma was woken some time later by a pair of gentle lips caressing her cheek. She slept soundly. Thankfully, she’d been so tired she’d even managed to sleep dreamlessly. 

“Good afternoon,” Unus whispered. 

“Is it that late?” She asked tiredly and wrapped her arms around Unus’ waist and pulled her flush against her side. 

“Yeah, the guards just told me lunch is in about an hour. They’re bringing us a tub for a hot bath now, and I believe they have clothes for you.” 

“Oh, okay.” Bulma laid there in Unus’ arms for a few minutes while they waited for the handmaids to bring the tub and the buckets of hot water. Unus apparently had restocked the fire, so it was delightfully warm. As she stroked the soft skin of Unus’ hip, she noticed that the other woman was naked. 

“I wish we could stay here, indefinitely,” she mused and peppered Unus’ shoulder with kisses. 

“Me too, Bulla,” she whispered, and they kissed. Their peace was interrupted by a well-meaning handmaid knocking. Unus pulled Bulma’s dirty old housecoat on, and Bulma answered the door in her nightdress. 

It wasn’t a handmaid. It was Prince Vegeta, whose brows shot up at the sight of her. She went a bit stiff, but it was too late to hide now that he’d seen her. 

“Good afternoon. Did you sleep well?” 

“Very well - thank you,” Bulma said and crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“I’ve brought you something. A gift from my family.” He had a dress draped over his arms that he held out for her. “And, the cloak I put on your shoulders last night is yours to keep as well. Tell your Knight I’ll have my stuart clean her armor and provide new underthings while you two wash.” 

“Thank you, Your Highness. This is very generous of you. It’ll be wonderful to have something clean and warm to wear.” She reached out to accept the dress and stood aside so the handmaid's lining up behind him could bring the tub and water inside. 

“My pleasure. I’ll come collect you for lunch in a little over an hour.” 

“Thank you, I look forward to dining with your father and siblings.” He nodded stiffly and left. If Bulma wasn’t mistaken, his cheeks had turned a bit red. Back inside the room, she laid the dress out neatly on the bed to look it over. 

“Pfft, oh right. That’ll keep you warm.” Unus rolled her eyes and shook her head disapprovingly. 

“My Lady,” One of the Handmaids said. “It comes with a warm under-suit.” 

“Good,” Unus snapped. 

“Thank you,” Bulma added for good measure and fixed Unus with a cool gaze. 

“Be nice to them, they’re working hard to accommodate me with no notice.” 

“Yes, Princess,” Unus said, formalities up since there were people around. 

The dress was indeed something Bulma wouldn’t have expected to find this far North, even in a castle. It was made of layers of light, airy muted lavender fabric that seemed to float at the slightest touch. She tried to remember what Princess Fasha had been wearing last night when she arrived, but she couldn’t. She’d been too tired to notice anyone’s clothes, even the King’s. The bust of the dress was low cut enough to make Unus’ comment completely valid, even if they did give her something warm to wear underneath. 

Bulma decided to look over the cloak Prince Vegeta had given her last night since it seemed it would be the only thing keeping her upper body from freezing. She remembered it was warm, but it was also beautiful. The outer fabric was a rich, white velvet. The collar and inside of the cloak was a thick, soft white fur the likes of which Bulma didn’t recognize. She’d never seen an animal with white fur before. 

After Bulma’s bath, she sat by the window and sipped a black drink they called coffee while Unus bathed. The handmaids didn’t help her as they had Bulma. She offered to wash her back, but Unus threw a cautious look at the handmaid and shook her head. The sight of Unus bathing was so lovely and so tempting, that it was a struggle to look out the window instead. But she managed. 

The sun was high in the sky, the morning frost already melted away. From this room, Bulma had a lovely view of the Town Square. She could see plenty of people rushing about, getting trades and chores done while the day was at its warmest. She looked over as many people as she could, even if they didn’t look ill or hurt because you never knew. 

 

Soon, Unus was done washing and the handmaids were taking away the water, bucket by bucket, and then the tub. Since Bulma had been drying longer, she dressed first. 

It took the handmaid's so long to get her dressed, that by the time she was done, Unus was already wearing her own new warm cotton under suit with her clean, shining armor on. She looked beautiful. Her hair was clean again and hung in soft looking strands neatly around her face. She must have been making eyes at her because Unus shook her head ever so slightly. 

“Stuart!” Unus called as the boy began hustling away. “Tell your men they do good work.” 

“Yes, my Lady Unus Octo!” He bowed so low his head nearly touched the floor and took off. 

Bulma looked in the mirror, feeling much better now that she was clean and dressed, but the bodice was very, very exposing. She felt as if she’d be indecent if she reached above her head even a little. Even though she’d only been here a few hours, she longed for the South and the elegantly draped silks that allowed for easy, comfortable movement. 

The rest of the staff left them alone to wait for Vegeta. She put the white cloak on and felt better when her chest wasn’t exposed. She wondered if all northern dresses felt this stiff. Even though the dress itself was light cotton, the formal bodice they’d put over it was so constricting she felt as if she couldn’t have bad posture even if she wanted. 

“I’d tell you that you’re beautiful, but you’re always beautiful. More importantly, are you warm?” 

“Yes, these under trousers - or whatever they call them - are very warm. The chest and arms though… could use a little more coverage,” Bulma shrugged and approached Unus to slip her arm around her neck and kiss her. “You look amazing.” She ran her fingers through the blonde hair to find it was as soft as it looked. Her own hair was tied back and styled so much it was basically untouchable. 

“Thank you, Bulla.” Unus leaned down to kiss her again and slipped her arms around her waist to hold her close. “They’re going to suggest an arranged marriage, you know,” Unus said, ruining the moment as they parted lips. 

“Yes, I know. Probably with Goku,” she mused. Since the eldest son, Prince Vegeta, was to be king of his own country, they’d put up the 2nd eldest. “Unless he’s engaged, already. Then it’ll be Raditz, and if he’s already engaged than Tarble.” 

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Unus mused and smiled playfully. 

“You just like him because he’s the smallest.”  
“I need to be larger than at least one of these bears. I feel like a shrimp around them,” Unus joked, but there was a seriousness to her confession that stilled them both. 

“How do you think I feel?” Bulma whispered. 

“Terrified.” The playful mood had gone, and now Unus was deadly serious. “Remember Bulla, you’re easily the most beautiful person any of these men have ever seen. But I’ll be with you the whole time, and if whoever they marry you too turns out horrible, we’ll just poison him or something,” she joked, but there was a look to her smile that made Bulma think she’d actually do it if given the chance. 

“I just hope it’s not Raditz,” Bulma admitted. “He’s horrible, or at least he was back when they visited.” 

A knock on the door sent them both flying away from one another. Bulma answered. It was Prince Vegeta. 

“Princess,” he greeted. “Are you ready?” 

“I am, yes. Thank you again for your hospitality.” She curtsied, he bowed. He extended his arm, and she took it, though her arm was reluctant to leave the cozy depth of the fur-lined cloak. His arm was surprisingly thick, but the longer they walk the more she thought he was deliberately flexing his bicep if the stiffness of his arm was anything to go by. 

“Did you manage any rest after my intrusion?” She asked, trying to make polite small talk, and looking over every person they passed on the way to the dining hall. 

“I did. We’ve still no word from your country though.” 

“No, I expect not. I need to send word to the general of my navy and have them sail here at once,” she said. 

“Your navy?” He smirked. 

“Yes. My people need to be protected from whoever took our castle. Whoever they are, they mean my people no good and I can’t protect them from here.” 

“I see.” 

“I’m sure your father and I will have much to discuss, after lunch.” 

“He is likely to be distracted, actually. My mother has somehow recovered from her illness. He’s been with her ever since.” She looked sideways at him, wondering how he felt and was delighted to see him smiling. “Have you ever been to a northern celebration?” He asked. 

“No, I’m afraid not.” 

“Well, if you wish to leave the celebration, simply ask and a guard will escort you anywhere in the castle you’d like to go,” he explained. “It’s a lot of beer and fighting. While we dine, the guards and want-to-be guards will be fighting in a tournament. The Winner will be declared Knight of Winter, a title of great honor. The big bag of money is a nice prize too. Runners-up will be made guards.” 

Bulma already hated the idea of this. To celebrate the miracle of the Queen's recovery, they try to kill one another? Northerners were fools, that much was clear. She wished she didn’t need them to save her people. She wondered if Unus would want to fight too. Well, regardless she’d never allow it. It wasn’t worth the risk to her life. 

Prince Vegeta led her to the throne room, where a massive table had been set in front of the 6 thrones, and all the chairs moved from the ground level to make room for the battles. They had to enter the Throne room from the side to avoid the line of people, waiting to earn their titles as knights, or up their existing rank. 

For now, the throne room held only the royal family, a few guards, and now Bulma and Unus. The Queen looked radiant. She was sitting on the King’s lap, kissing him eagerly while he kissed her back. Most of their children seemed to be smiling, but otherwise not watching their parents’ passionate kissing. Bulma felt a little heat in her chest at the sight and smiled. 

“Was she really so sick?” Bulma asked, feigning a puzzled frown and looking at Vegeta. 

“We thought she was going to die.” Bulma looked doubtfully back at the Queen who looked as healthy as one could be. “I wouldn’t believe me either, but she was given days last night. Days. Now, she’s as strong as ever,” he shrugged. 

“I believe you,” she said softly. “I still remember when my mother was sick. When we all knew she was going to die. How it felt. I saw that feeling yesterday. In your eyes, in your fathers, and your brothers and sister.” 

“Then I suppose I should believe your flaming, winged horse story too,” he teased and she laughed. They approached the King and Queen, Vegeta a little more eager to look at Bulma while they spoke than at his parents’ display. 

“Father, Mother,” Vegeta said to get their attention. They parted and looked at their son and Bulma. Both of their lips were swollen and a touch red.  
“Ah! Princess Bulma! Welcome!” The King chuckled, and the Queen slipped out of his lap. She was about the same height as Bulma, though she had the black hair and the thick, muscled body Bulma had come to expect of the Northerners. She was dressed elegantly and looked radiant, and beautiful. 

“Princess Bulma, I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl. That was shortly after your own mother had passed, wasn’t it?” She pulled Bulma into a tight, bone-crushing hug that made her cough, both from the literal physical pressure, and the sudden reminder that she was an orphan. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, I don’t know my own strength. I’m so pleased you’re here. You brought the blessings of God with you. I’m sure of it,” she said eagerly. “God smiled down on us and blesses us for taking you in. She wants us to fight with you. Of that, I am sure.” 

“Your Majesty?” Bulma asked, once again pretending to be confused. 

“She just woke up and got dressed, Mother. She hasn’t heard yet.” 

“You have not! Oh, my dear, it’s wonderful news. You see, this morning we got word that everyone who had been at the Infirmary last night, was healed in the morning. We’ve got reports from all over the town and the castle of ailments and injuries vanishing, just like that! My Sweet Husband’s back, Sir Nappa’s knee, Goku’s hands!” She gushed and hugged her again. “My dear, know it or not you bring blessings with you, and for as long as you need, you are welcome here.” 

“Your Majesty, thank you, you’re very kind but I’m sure it wasn’t me. If I had been so blessed than why was my home taken from me so horribly? Why did God not protect my father and all of my friends at the castle?” 

“She saved you, and your Knight. and this Steed I’ve heard of. She delivered you here. Come, come we’ve much to discuss. Of course, we should talk marriages first, I know it seems an odd time, but if our armies will fight together we need to unite our families forever.” 

At those words, Bulma’s eyes shot to Goku, who sat towards the end of the table with a teen boy standing beside him. She frowned. Who was that? Judging from the easy way they touched, maybe a stable boy Goku was intimate with? Or maybe even just a proper concubine? Did the North allow such things? 

“Now Vegeta is, of course, going to be the next King of Vegeta, so he’s off the table, and Goku is a widower with his own son so that leaves our third eldest, Raditz. Raditz! Come here!” Queen Gine gestured him over. Raditz, easily the biggest of the sons, stopped his conversation with a frightened-looking kitchen maid to do as his mother asked. 

“Mother, Princess, what can I do for you?” He bowed and looked up at Bulma, expectantly. “Oh! Raditz they don’t do that in the South. Bulma, darling he is waiting for your hand.” She explained. Bulma obliged and was shocked when Raditz actually took her hand in his and kissed it! She flushed and pulled her hand away as soon as his grip loosened. “Raditz, I was just telling Bulma that you two would be a good fit. Unite our families and countries forever and we’ll win this war.” 

At her announcement of their apparent engagement, Raditz looked Bulma up and down, greed written clearly on his face. “Goku is older, though, and stronger. Why not him?” 

“Royals in the Isle of Life cannot marry a widow or a widower. The look on Raditz’s face as he smiled made her go cold.  
“Actually, your Majesty, it's only divorcees we cannot marry. Widows and widowers are acceptable by our laws.” The instant look of anger on Raditz’s face made Bulma step back instinctively. Unus put her hand on Bulma’s back. For a while, Bulma had forgotten she was there. 

“Really! Well, excellent! I think Goku would be a fantastic fit, what do you think? Goku!” She called. Goku was mid-bite with his name was called, making him look up from his snack, cheeks puffed out with food. 

“Mhm?” He yelled over a mouthful. Bulma laughed and felt a wave of relief. She remembered Goku being sweet and carefree from their visit the first time. At that point, Tarble hadn’t been born, and Fasha was too young to travel such a long way. She also remembered Raditz, a few years older than her and a teenager while he was visiting. He’d been so horrible to every woman he interacted with that Bulma’s father had assigned a guard to him to keep his hands off the castle staff. 

“Come here, Goku!” Queen Gine called. He nodded and got up. Wow, he’d gotten tall. He was easily taller than all of his brothers, except Raditz though he wasn’t nearly as bulky as Raditz, which made him look longer. 

“Oh! Hi Bulma!” He greeted, a big smile on his face after he’d swallowed. “I haven’t seen you since we were kids! You sure got pretty! What’s up?” His casual nature and easy smile was a relief, after all these formalities. 

“Thank you, Goku. You got big. I didn't think you’d ever get taller than Vegeta!” That made him laugh. A wave of relief washed over Bulma. She could marry him and be content, she decided. 

“Goku, we’re going to arrange a marriage between our families. Since you’re the 2nd oldest…” Gine gestured between the two of them, smiling. 

“Wow, really? Marry Bulma and move to the south?” He asked, jaw hanging open a little. 

“Yes, and be a King. It’s more than you’d ever have staying here,” Queen Gine said, smiling sadly at her son. 

“Well,” Raditz spoke up. “You’d be king in that you’d be married to the Queen. Bulma would be the ruler, just like how Father is the ruler here, and mother is Queen only because she married the King.” 

“So - What would that make Gohan?” He asked and looked over his shoulder at the teen boy who’d been sitting with him. 

“A lord of the Isle of Life. Probably Marry a Lady of the court or something.” Gine said. 

“I- I’m sorry I don’t believe I’ve meant Gohan yet,” Bulma said. Did they expect her to give her future husband's concubine an official marriage to a lady of the court? 

“He would get to come with us, right?” Goku asked his mother. 

“Yes, of course! He’s your son - Bulma would never ask you to -” She stopped short when Goku waved Gohan over. As he approached, everything made much more sense. Bulma wondered how old he was. Goku had already been a teenager when she meant him when she was just 8. 

“Hi, I’m Gohan.” The boy bowed to his Grandmother, uncles, and Bulma when he got to them. “Gohan, this is Bulma, Princess of The Isle of Life. The King and Queen are thinking about arranging a marriage between her and I. How would you feel about moving to the South?” 

“Woah - Really, Dad?” Gohan’s face lit up. From that simple expression, Bulma could clearly see the relation and she wondered how she’d not noticed it sooner. “I’ve been reading about the Isle of Life since I was a kid! It’s where we get most of our food, right? And they have the biggest navy in the world and the most navigable rivers of any country on the planet and they have a summer that lasts 4 months! I read that it doesn’t get below 60 degrees there, even in the winter! Is that true, Your Highness?” He asked Bulma eagerly. 

“It is.” She smiled at him. “How old are you?”  
“11,” he said. “Am I old enough to learn how to ride those narrow racing boats?”  
“Oh! The canoes! We go more off height than age actually, and you’re plenty tall enough.” “Oh, wow cool! Dad, is it really going to happen?” He asked, beaming at his father and Grandmother. wow cool! Dad, is it really going to happen?” He asked, beaming at his father and Grandmother.  
“If you’re this excited, then I don’t see why not! I’d be the luckiest man in the family to marry Bulma! Well, right behind Dad of course!” He said, with a cheeky wink to his mother who smiled and slapped his arm, while Bulma flushed. “I mean, we get to move South and live in paradise, where it’s always warm! I get to marry the most beautiful girl in the world, who has some weird blessing that heals everyone she’s near! It doesn’t get better than this for us, does it - oh!” The smile melted off of Goku’s face. “But, Bulma I’m sorry about your Father. He was really smart, wasn’t he? I’ll do all I can to help you get your country back and avenge him. I promise.” He clenched his fist in determination. His tone had changed so suddenly that it took Bulma a moment to keep up. She was still smiling from his praise of her homeland. 

“Thank you, Goku - I think we can be very happy to-” 

“Now hold on,” King Vegeta approached and wrapped a thick arm around his wife. “Let’s not go rushing into anything just yet.” 

“Why on earth not? I know you and The King Brevis had been planning to marry one of our sons to her for some time, so-” Queen Gina said to her husband with a huff. 

“That’s not the problem, my love. We should wait until this war is over to see whom she marries. If we are victorious, and we can take back the Isle of Life, then she marries Goku, and they go live in the South. If we fail and we cannot get The Isle of Life back, then she marries Vegeta, and becomes queen here,” he decided. There was a pause while everyone absorbed his order. 

“Your Majesty, what will the North do for food without the Isle of Life?” Bulma asked. 

“We will have to trade more with Namek. They are further away, and thus more expensive. It might cause a bit of a depression. Not to worry, though. I plan on putting my all into this. While our country wouldn’t perish if we lost, millions would die from the following food shortage. Assuming we aren’t attacked in the same manner you were, and there’s nothing to suggest we wouldn’t be. So, Goku if all goes according to plan, you will have your way.” 

The whole time they spoke, Raditz seethed quietly, greedy eyes locked on Bulma. She didn’t look at him, but she could feel his gaze on her as they parted to sit, eat, and watch the fighting. 

Bulma had nothing against Vegeta. The oldest son had been nothing but kind to her since she arrived, and he hadn’t even mentioned her looks yet, a huge perk as far as she’s concerned. But she wanted to go home, and she wanted to see the people who murdered her father suffer horrible, painful deaths. And Goku was nice. He had a good nature about him that she liked. At the very least, she could see herself being close friends with him. 

So long as she stayed well away from the third son, Raditz, she would be just fine. 

 

\----- 

During the tournament, the servants brought meat dish after meat dish until Bulma longed for something that grew from the earth. No sooner had she thought it, a servant set a stack of steaming potatoes in front of her, smothered in pig fat and gravy. She groaned and closed her eyes to wait for her stomach to settle. 

On top of the too-rich food, she stood out rather a lot. Neither the Queen nor Princess  
Fasha were wearing a dress like hers. They had dresses that looked like they belonged in the North. Long sleeves, leather bodices, and fur-lined skirts, with rich greens and browns with touches of gold. They were lovely, but they also had a practicality about them that this fluffy bell-shaped thing they had her in just didn’t. Was this how they thought southerners dressed? The fabric wasn’t bad, but that bodice kept making it hard to breathe. 

As the guest of honor, she was seated beside the King and queen, in Goku’s usual chair. Rather than make his brother scoot down though, Goku was more than content to sit at the end of the table with his son and talk with him while they ate piles and piles of food, mostly meat. This meant Bulma was sitting between the Queen and Raditz. 

He spotted Bulma smiling fondly at Goku and rolled his eyes. 

“My brother seems nice now, but he’s a moron. He’ll cause you nothing but trouble down the road with that carefree attitude of his.” He finished the sentence by ripping a piece of flesh off a turkey leg and swallowing it without chewing. 

Bulma was just hoping Goku would be the sort to stay out of the way and let her lead. He seemed good-natured enough, and like he wouldn’t much care so long as he got to spend time with his son. She looked to her right to see if the Queen could hear them and if she cared that Raditz was insulting his brother to a royal dignitary. 

“What happened to his wife?” She asked, looking Raditz in the eye for the first time since meeting him. 

“Gas. The colds attacked her homeland too.” He said with a careless shrug. 

Bulma didn’t push the question. She didn’t want to think about gas. 

“Plague is a real problem up here, isn’t it? Almost no one down South has -” She said, changing the subject as rapidly as she could. 

“It’s the cold,” he cut her off. “Makes Southerners weak, if you ask me.” 

“I don’t think we’re weak,” she said with as much friendliness in her voice as she could muster without sounding too fake. 

“Please, you’re barely as thick around as my arm.” 

“Doesn’t mean all Southerners are weak. I’m sure Unus would win in a fight against you.” Raditz looked over his shoulder at Unus, standing behind them, and laughed. 

“She’s no bigger than you. A nice suit of armor doesn’t make her strong.” 

Bulma sighed and let it drop. She noted the Queen had stopped talking to her husband but was now pretending to watch the battle while she pointed her ear directly at them. 

The rest of the tournament was a struggle to watch. Bulma tried tuning it out, by looking at her meal, or talking to the queen, but it turned out to be a mistake. Being distracted by a conversation, the warriors scream of pain startled her, and she snapped her head to look him over - without a thought, and he was healed. The crowd went silent, as the man stood up. It was Nappa. She hadn’t even noticed it was him, but she must have recognized his voice without realizing it. There had been a sword in his stomach - and now his abdomen was as smooth and scar-free as a baby’s. He grinned, while his opponent looked horror struck. 

Bulma looked away just as Nappa jumped the other man, but even over the yells and cheers, she could hear a sickening crack. She wished they had something other than meat to eat. She could feel the flesh inside her stomach and then seeing the flesh in the fighting ring being beaten and sliced through with swords made her feel sick. She knew she hadn’t eaten human, but she thought from this point on she would never eat meat again. While here, she’d eat what they gave her, but as soon as she managed to get home she’d never touch meat again. 

“NAPPA!” The King shouted, making Bulma jump a little in her seat. 

“Jittery little thing, aren’t you?” Raditz growled, before standing up to cheer and punch the air with everyone else. Apparently, Nappa had won. “GOD HAS CHOSEN NAPPA! WE ALL SAW HER GIFTS OF HEALING WORK BEFORE OUR VERY EYES!” The King shouted. 

Bulma paled and covered her mouth with her hand. 

Nappa shouted a wordless cry of victory and downed a pint of ale. Bulma looked over all the fighters lingering along the sides. Their voices rang up in surprise and pride as their wounds were healed. More screaming. More drinking. Now, there was music and she couldn’t take anymore. She wanted to leave the party but if she did, and the healing stopped happening they’d grow suspicious. They already thought having her in their home was a blessing, but they didn’t know it was actually her doing all the healing, and that’s how she wanted it. 

The party went on until it started to grow dark. Bulma excused herself to go find Vegeta and ask him to join her in fetching Ember. She didn’t want to leave him in the woods another night. Even though she was sure he’d be okay by himself, she figured he must be lonely. But she couldn’t find Vegeta in the crowd, which was now dancing so violently that people were starting to lose teeth - or maybe it was a big fight now? 

She couldn’t tell, so she went back to the table to look through all the people. Everyone was in that mess of bodies and fists. Even the Queen and King. Unus had at some point decided Bulma was safe and joined in. Unus was one of the only people she could pick out of the crowd, as she was the only blonde. 

But she was working her way to the middle, towards Nappa, apparently, to challenge him. This meant Bulma had to stay and watch, so she could protect Unus while she fought Nappa. Bulma was expecting Unus to take it slower, maybe need to be healed a few times before she’d win - but as soon as Nappa nodded and raised his fists to fight - she jumped, grabbed his own fist to get herself higher, and kicked him in the head so hard Bulma could see his eyes bulge out. 

He hit the ground with such a crash that the fight dancing stopped, and everyone turned to look at the woman who’d just knocked out their prizefighter with one, sudden, surprise kick. Unus’ leg was broken, judging from how she was standing very carefully, with her leg dangling a bit rather than putting weight on it. Bulma looked it over, and she stood normally again. 

The room went wild with the thrill of a new victorious opponent. Nappa was completely out of sight on the ground for a good while, as bodies blocked her view of him while dancing - but a moment later, he emerged and lifted Unus into the air, and sat her on his shoulder - he was so large that this looked easy, and screamed his delight, at apparently losing to a woman half his size? 

This confused Bulma, but she looked Nappa over anyway to heal him, and couldn’t help smiling as he and Unus celebrated. She seemed to fit in here, surrounded by strong, muscled Northerners. 

But If she was going to be busy playing with these overgrown children, then Bulma would go get Ember herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> I hope this was cleared up in this chapter, but just in case.
> 
> Unus comes from the latin word Unum, meaning One  
> Octo is the latin word for Eight.  
> Meaning her name is literally One Eight. 
> 
> Because I'm _so_ clever.
> 
> Let me know in the comments if you have any other ships you'd like worked into the story, and if you liked this chapter! Thanks! 
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 


	3. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma goes to find Ember in the woods, but instead finds herself alone with Raditz.
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> [](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 

With one last look at the mass of violently dancing bodies, Bulma left. Most of the fighting was over now, or so it seemed. Some part of her knew it was foolish to leave without Unus, but she headed towards the gate anyway. A rather large guard approached her.  

“Good evening!” She said cheerily.  

“Princess,” he bowed. He was about as huge as Nappa, she noted. “May I join you, if you wish to leave the castle?”  

“Please! I won’t be gone long, I just need to go retrieve my mount from the woods.”  

“Perhaps we can send a stable boy, Princess?” The image of some poor northern Stableboy walking blindly into the woods to find Ember made her laugh.  

“My mount is very frightening looking, I wouldn’t ask it of someone who didn’t know him.” She pulled her cloak over her shoulders and lifted the hood.  

“Very well, Princess. Allow me a moment to fetch another guard, it would be unwise to go with just the two of us.”  

“Yes, of course.” She waited by the gate until the large guard returned with two more guards at his side. One of whom was almost as large as he was, while the other was normal sized if a little buffer than the average Northerner. “Wonderful, thank you. Is there anything else we need?” She asked, inching towards the gate.  

“No, Princess.” The largest one led the way, while the others fell into place on either side of her, towards the back making a sort of triangle shape with her in the center. She didn’t mind it and looked each of them over as they headed out the gate.  

The largest one stopped so suddenly she nearly ran into him.  

“What is it?” She stepped back.  

“I have heard that God is blessing the castle and its people for protecting you, Princess. It would seem she has blessed me as well.”  

“Were you hurt before?” She asked, frowning at him. He seemed okay, but she’d looked him over as a precaution anyway, out of habit.  

“I have had pain in my head for many years, Princess. This is… the first time that I can remember there being no pain - it left so suddenly.”  

Bulma didn’t say anything. Just looked up at his back, a warm feeling in her chest. She’d really helped him. Really, truly helped him. As she looked up at him, she noted a strand of red hair poking out from under his helmet. Maybe he wasn’t native to this land? 

“Captain, you never told us-” The smallest guard said. He looked very much like the others who lived in the north, with long shaggy black hair. 

“It was not relevant to the job. Were you blessed too?” He asked the others.  

“Maybe? I wasn’t in any pain before.”  

“Yes,” The other said firmly. The Biggest one, the captain apparently turned to look at him. Bulma couldn’t read their expressions, but there was something interesting there. Some exchange she didn’t understand.  

“Were you badly hurt?” Bulma asked, not sure what else to do and curiosity getting the best of her.  

“No, but I had pain. Most all of us do. One cannot be a true warrior without having some pain always.” 

At this, Bulma’s eyes flickered over to the other guard, with the scars. He looked at the ground, silent, but clearly bothered by the statement that he wasn’t a true warrior for not having been in pain. The other didn’t seem to realize that he’d said something so offensive about his comrade though, or he didn’t care because they started walking again.  

“This can only mean God has blessed this mission, or at the very least, you, Princess,” the smaller guard said.  

“Yes,” the Captain agreed. Bulma just kept her mouth shut and pulled her hood up to warm her head and hide a little, but a pristine white cloak sure did stand out.  

The people of the city moved when they saw guards coming. Many of them stared in awe at Bulma, probably having never seen a foreign princess before, let alone one as stunningly pretty as Bulma was. It was interesting to see the town so alive. It was oddly warm now, with so many doors open and the heat from inside pouring out to warm the street before escaping up into the cold sky.  

Bulma looked over everyone they passed, even people she could barely glimpse moving around through windows. Sure, this place wasn’t as lavish or lovely as the Isle of life, but there was still plenty of life and love here. Children waddled around so bundled up they looked more like balls. She looked them all over. Most people didn’t notice, but a few stopped to examine the body part that had been previously troublesome and painful.  

They kept going until they had reached the edge of town and made way for the tree line at Bulma’s instruction. The guards visibly tensed when they got to the trees, but Bulma relaxed because she knew Ember was near. She could feel his heat.  

“Ember?” She called, as they passed a few large, gnarled trees that looked familiar.  

_ ’About time,’ _ his ethereal voice rang in her mind and she looked around for him. _ “Who are they?” _ He asked distastefully.  

_ “Guards. It’s okay, you can come out. I’ve warned the King and his staff about you.” _

_ ‘Warned. Am I so hideous?’ _ He complained, a little dramatically.  

“Only to a fool’s eye, my friend.”  

“Princess?” The Captain asked, turning and frowning at Bulma. To him, it looked like Bulma was just talking to herself.  

“He can speak directly to one’s mind if he wants. He’s a very unusual being, but he won’t hurt you,” she assured him and moved around them to the spot where she thought she’d seen him moving.  

“Your Highness!” They all three said behind her.  

“It’s fine, he’s just right-” She looked over her shoulder to reassure them - but found all three of them kneeling to Prince Raditz. A stab of fear froze her for a moment.  

_ ‘I’m a bit away, but I’m coming,’ _ Ember told her.  _ ‘Who else is there now?’ _

“The Prince,” she whispered while the three guards waited for a command from their prince.  

_ ’Oh no, the heroic type?’ _ .  

“You three shouldn’t have taken the Princess from the castle without alerting us. Her guard Unus is in a panic. You’re dismissed, I’ll take it from here.”  

_ ‘No,’  _ she thought _. ‘Not the heroic type.’ _ She must have sounded frightened, even in her mind because Ember’s tone changed.  

_ ‘I’ll be there soon.’  _

__

_ ‘Thanks. Hurry.’  _

The three guards stood up and left at once, without further question or even a hint of hesitation, but she thought the big ginger one did throw her a worried look. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Raditz after the way he’d been looking at her before.  

“You know it’s funny, as soon as you left, the healing stopped.”  

“It did? I thought - I thought your god was blessing you for taking me in? She blessed the three guards - The Captain said-”  

“It must only be those who are near you. Tell me, if you’re hurt do you heal as well?” He asked.  

“No,” she lied. “Not that I’ve noticed before, but I also haven’t been hurt since I got here, and no one around me was ever healed in such a way before I arrived in the North.” She looked over her shoulder for Ember, wanting his warming and intimidating presence more than ever now.  

“Interesting. Maybe this means you were meant to be here.”  

“Maybe it does?” She shrugged. “It scares me a little, but I’m glad I can help people. The Captain… he said he lived in constant pain before God healed him. I can’t imagine what that was like for him.”  

“I can,” he shrugged. “God hasn’t healed me. Not once.” He crossed his arms and looked around the little clearing. “Why did you come out here?”  

“I came to get my steed. The one I told your father about? He looks very frightening, but he’s really gentle and very kind.”  

“Oh right. You had him wait here so you wouldn’t alarm anyone,” he nodded as he recalled and looked her up and down with plain greed in his eyes.  

That’s why he hadn’t been healed. Ever since she arrived he’d been eyeing her like that, and she wasn’t going to heal anyone who actively looked like he was about to attack her. She twisted the hem of her cloak nervously in her hands while she looked over her shoulder for Ember.  

“So, where is this steed?”  

“He’s coming. He's not far off now. He was just hunting.”  

_ ‘I was actually following an interesting scent, but I did eat along the way so that’s partially true,’ _ Ember answered in her head. If she was close enough for him to speak to her like this, it meant he couldn’t be too far off.  

“I see. How did you acquire such a horse?”  

“It’s a long story.” She looked away from the woods behind her and back to Raditz, who’d gotten much, much closer. She took a startled step back. He was looking down at her with an expression she’d never seen before - but then she’d never been alone with a man like this before. Only doctors, her father, and once for a minute a male guard. She’d seen men look at her with greed before, and with desire - but never one she was at the mercy of.  

Raditz took another step towards her - and she backed up again. This time, her back met with a gnarled tree, and he closed the distance between them.  

“Goku is an idiot. Marry me,” he said so simply - so easily that she was stunned. He wasn’t even trying to hide his desire.  

“Goku has a right - He seems very kind too, that’s-” 

“He’s still in love with his dead wife. He always will be. He’s not one to appreciate beauty as I do, and he’d be no help to you running the country. He’s a fool. Strong, but a fool. Do you really want another woman's son calling you ‘Mother?’” He reached out, and cupped her cheek in his massive hand and leaned forward, bracing against the tree with his free arm.  

“Don’t,” she whispered, making him pause inches from her face. “I’m an excellent lover, you know. If God is healing you, if we can find out - then no one would know. You’d be a virgin forever,” he said, a bit too eagerly.  

“But we don’t know th-” She was cut short when he pulled a dagger out of its sheath on his belt. 

“We can test it. A prick on the finger is all…” He reached for her hand - his body was so close to her that she couldn’t move away from the old tree.  

“I don’t want to sleep with you or marry you,” she said firmly. “Even if I am being healed.” That made him stop and look coldly at her.  

“You’d rather have Goku?”  

“I’d rather have someone who doesn’t look at me like I’m a prize,” she said firmly. “It’s not a matter of attraction, most of you Saiyans look the same to me anyway.” She wriggled against the tree, trying to slide out to the side to put some space between them.  

“It’s me, Goku, or Tarble. Do you want Tarble? That puny-”  

“It’s not that I want them more, it’s that I don’t want you at all - this is highly inappropriate! It’s completely inexcusable for you to do such-” She fell silent when he suddenly punched the tree near her head. It shook so much snow fell off and landed on them in wet slushy hunks.  

 

“Inappropriate? Goku got to marry Chi-Chi, the strongest woman on the planet. He got to move to her kingdom on Fire Mountain and rule. It wasn’t until Fire Mountain was overtaken and his wife died that he was forced to stay here, with our sick mother. He had his chance to be King, and now – now he’s getting another! It’s my turn. My turn to become a King and rule. I don’t care what my mother thinks or what that idiot wants – you will marry me.”

“No. I won’t.”  

“You will.” He pushed her cloak open and ran his hands roughly around her waist. “Once I’ve had you, you won’t want anyone. Besides, my father will see it my way. He’s always resented Goku for giving up the Throne of the Fire Mountain.”  

Bulma kicked him as hard as she could between his legs. He cried out in pain and fell to his knees. She kicked him again, then elbowed him roughly in the face. His head snapped back a little, but the pain still seemed to mostly come from his groin - which he now shielded with both hands.  

“Sir, you forget yourself. I am no princess, I am a Queen and if you touch me again I will have you hung,” she hissed viciously. “I may not yet be crowned, but I one day will be. Who do you think your father will side with? The Queen of a wealthy land who wishes to unite our families forever? Or his idiot son who’s already made a name for himself by pawing at any woman who holds still in his presence for too long?” He groaned in pain and leaned on his hands and began retching. She jumped out of the way, half climbing over him to move before he threw up.  

For a brief moment, it was just Bulma, standing in the woods watching Raditz throw up while she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.  

“You - cunt!” He gasped between hurls of beer and meat working its way up through his mouth.  

“No.” She used the fact that he was on his hands and knees to kick him in the crotch again from behind, between his legs. He hurled harder and coughed agonizingly.  

Once he got up, she was shit out of luck if Ember weren’t here by then. “Princess, or Bulma,” she corrected. “You’ll treat me with respect from now on, and I’ll do the same for you. And if I ever hear about you attacking some poor woman with no power to stop you again, I’ll have you hung.” She wanted to kick him again, but since he was retching so hard she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  

The quiet was disrupted by footsteps in the brush. Expecting Ember, Bulma turned, face alight- to find Prince Vegeta approaching from the town, wide smile on his face.  

“Oh! Prince Vegeta!” She said surprised. He was grinning, in an almost smug sort of way.  

“Hello, Princess. I see you’ve taught my idiot brother a much-needed lesson,” he nodded to the crumpled, green Raditz on the ground.  

“Oh! You - you saw that?” She felt a little twinge of guilt but dismissed it since she had every right.  

“Best thing I’ve seen in awhile,” Vegeta chuckled. “I’ve been telling this moron he was going to go for the wrong woman one day and get killed. He normally just goes for women he’s sure he’s stronger than. Handmaidens, peasants, those who can’t turn down their Prince. Because he’s a weakling.”  

“Vegeta - you-” Raditz groaned.  

“Be quiet, Raditz,” he scoffed and looked back at Bulma. She didn’t understand his look. He was clearly happy, but there was also a touch of that greed she’d seen before - only not really greed so much as something else.  

_ ‘Bulma,’ _ Ember's voice in her mind startled her - she had been so distracted with Raditz and Vegeta that she didn’t notice Ember had arrived and stood on the edge of the clearing. She went to him at once and hugged him around the neck.  

“Impressive looking beast.” Vegeta approached her from behind and reached out to stroke Ember’s mane.  

‘I like him,” Ember said out loud, which made Vegeta pause and remove his hand a bit from the silky black mane, looking stunned.  

“He’s very smart, too,” Bulma added with a smile so wide it felt tight. Most people were afraid of Ember. They’d run at the sight of his flaming eyes, mane, wings, and hooves - but Vegeta was mostly just amazed he could speak. Bulma was just grateful to have her friend back and to be properly warm again. “His name is Ember. He came from another world.”  

“A whole other plane of existence, really but who’s keeping track.” Ember shook his mane out and curled a wing around Bulma protectively. She looked him over to heal any wounds and she could feel him relax a bit under her hands.  

“Were you hurt?” She asked, frowning.  

_ ‘I was, but I’m fine now.’ He told her telepathically.  _

‘What hurt you?’ she asked.  

_ ‘Someone amazing. I’m in love, I’ll tell you about it later.’  _ She pulled back to look into his eye and shook her head in disbelief.  

“Good to meet you, Ember, was it?” Vegeta said after what to him was an awkward one-sided conversation.  

_ “Yes, that’s what Bulma calls me.”  _

“I see. Well, it’s… fitting.” Vegeta reached out to stroke his mane again, clearly fascinated by the way the flames didn’t burn and twisted around his fingers wonderfully.  

“Incredible.”  

_ “Yes, I am. Aren’t I? You have excellent taste, Princey. I like you,”  _ Ember declared as if it were a great honor. It was, Bulma thought, rare at the very least. Ember didn’t like many people. He didn’t even like Unus, but he was polite to her at least.  

“Well, shall we head back?” Bulma suggested, and gestured to the clearing, ignoring Raditz completely.  

“I don’t think it would be wise to just walk Ember through the town.”  

“I can carry you both,” he said confidently.  

“I have no doubt of that,” Vegeta laughed. “But, Princess, it would seem the people are hoping you’ll return through the town. When I was following behind Raditz, I saw people sending their children to the main road, hoping to be healed when you passed.”  

“Oh! I don’t want to leave them then… Ember, can you fly to the castle alone in about half an hour and we’ll meet you in the courtyard?”  

_ “I want to come. I want to see if more northerners have taste as good as Princey here _ .” He complained.  

_ ‘Dear friend, you know you would frighten the children. They’d see you and run before I could heal them.’  _

_“Fine, Fine. Should I take him?”_ He nodded to Raditz.

“No, he can walk,” Bulma said quickly.  

“Not for a very long time,” Vegeta mused. “It might be-”  

“Prince, he just wants to drop Raditz from a high place.” That made Vegeta roar with laughter.  

“Right, so we’re letting Ember take Raditz home-”  

“He’d die.”  

“Princess, you’ve already convinced me. I’ll just help him onto Embers back and-” He feigned a few steps towards Raditz and laughed when Bulma crossed her arms and glared at him.  

“You can’t just kill him, he’s your brother! Leave him,” she demanded. Her tone was so harsh that for a moment she thought Vegeta would be offended, but he just smiled that huge, slightly smug smile with the hint of something she didn’t recognize.  

“If you insist,” Vegeta shrugged and approached her to hold out his arm. “Shall we?”  

“Oh - yes. My apologies, for the tone - I know you were joking, I just-”  

“No need. You’re speaking like a ruler now.” She took his arm, and they started going back to the castle.  

“Oh, by the way. Ember- that thing you do with your voice in my head…”  

“Yes, I can read minds,” Ember said from behind them. That gave Vegeta pause, and he looked over his shoulder at the flaming horse. Vegeta looked tense and worried until Ember said something - Bulma had no idea what - that eased his mind.  

“Thanks.”  

They left Raditz and Ember in the clearing. Bulma gave one last warning to Ember to not hurt Raditz unless he attacked him first.  

The town was just as Vegeta had described. Children swarmed the main road and rushed over to them - giving them enough room to walk, but each one crowding to be near them. To be near Bulma, to be healed. She was happy to look them all over, and even the people waiting by the streets. She even looked over Vegeta again, just in case. He must not have been hurt though since he didn’t react at all.  

The kids would happily jump and run off once whatever hurt they’d been suffering from had vanished. It was a wonderful feeling to use this gift so freely, even if they all thought it was their God, blessing them, and not her. She didn’t need or want the credit.  

“Princess! Please!” A shout from behind them made Bulma turn. A woman was running towards them, bundle in her arms. Bulma felt her stomach sink as the woman approached, and held the baby out to her, sobbing. “Please! Please, my baby!”  

“I- I don’t-” The child was so wrapped in fabric that Bulma couldn’t see it - so she took it into her arms and for good measure, threw a confused look at Vegeta.  

“Maybe if you just hold it?” He suggested. Bulma nodded and removed just enough of the wrappings to see the baby’s face. He was covered in pox of some kind. His little throat swollen, and his chest - unmoving. Was he dead? She pressed her hand to his chest lightly to try and feel if he was breathing and felt nothing. She put her ear to his mouth and listened for a breath - than to his chest to listen for his heart, but her own was beating so fast she couldn’t tell if she was hearing his or her own.  

“He’s not - He’s not breathing -” She didn’t dare try and heal him here, in the middle of town when it was so unclear if he was alive or not. She didn’t dare. Vegeta took the baby from her and began pressing on his chest, hard. She thought he would break the poor things bones, but he didn’t seem to care. He pressed, again and again until she saw his chubby little hand jerk up and a whining cry of pain slip from his mouth like a tea kettle’s scream. Bulma sighed in relief and looked the baby over to heal him.  

Before their eyes, his pox vanished, and his throat deflated. His eyes opened and he screamed and cried as any healthy baby would. Bulma almost wept in relief - the emotion certainly built in her chest enough to make her feel like a damn about to burst and the mothers relieved sobbing as she took her baby back was no help.  

The rest of the walk back to the castle was slower. Bulma kept wiping her eyes so she could see clearly enough to look over everyone who had gathered. It took them longer than expected and before they’d reached the gates, Ember flew over, his massive wingspan covering them in shadow for a moment before landing beyond the gates.  

There was a moment of quiet before screams echoed around the street.  

“He’s a friend!” Bulma yelled. “He’s an ally! Don’t be afraid!” But people had scattered. Bulma and Vegeta exchanged a single look before dashing off towards the Castle gate.  

They burst through the gate and stumbled into the courtyard - only to find Ember, standing there with Unus and Nappa while Goku and Gohan excitedly examined him. Bulma, already on the verge of tears let out a relieved sob and ran to her friend to hug him.  

“I like these people,” he declared while Gohan ran to the stalls to fetch a brush and returned to gently comb his mane. He bristled happily and pushed against the touch of the brush.  

“Enjoying the attention?” Bulma asked, smiling in relief and excitement as she pressed against his side.  

“Of course. It’s well past due, you know. I deserve this - ow, hey - easy on the feathers.” He jerked his wing away from Goku, who’d pulled a little too hard in an attempt to examine the feathers more closely.  

“I’ve never seen a horse like this before. I’ve never even seen one this big!” Goku exclaimed and circled around Ember. He had to look up to see Ember’s back, he was so big. Bulma had gotten so used to Ember, that other horses looked small to her.  

“I am impressive, aren’t I?” Ember was literally glowing from all the praise. His flames danced around his wings, mane, hooves, and eyes as if being stoked with wood.  

At least someone liked it here in the North.  

_ ‘What did you say to Vegeta, earlier?’ _ Bulma asked him silently. He didn’t answer for a moment. She thought he was ignoring her, but then his voice echoed in her mind.  

_ ‘I promised him I wouldn’t tell you what he was thinking unless he was thinking about hurting you.’  _

_ ‘He couldn’t have been thinking anything so embarrassing when he found us, could he?’  _

_ ‘Let a man have his thoughts, Bulma. He’s like you, after all. No privacy whatsoever, except in his mind. How would you feel knowing your thoughts weren't private?’ _ Gohan had taken to brushing every inch of Ember, marveling at how the colors shifted in his fur when moved by the brush. He really was stunning when you got past the glowing red eyes and flaming wings.  

_ ‘My thoughts aren’t private. They haven’t been since you joined this world.’  _

_ ‘Well, I don’t go snooping, and I certainly don’t tell people what you’re thinking.’ _ He said, annoyed now. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and felt his wing close around her.  

_ ‘We’ll get The Isle back. I know you hate it here. But everyone here thinks the sun shines out your ass, except for Unus, Vegeta and myself. You’ll be fine.’  _

_ ‘Thanks. So, Vegeta doesn’t like me? Is that all he didn’t want me to know?’ _ She didn’t mind that he didn’t like her, but his smile earlier, half-lidded and smug made no sense now unless he was a fantastic actor.  

_ ‘He likes you. He’s not blindly infatuated with your looks like most men though. So that’s something. Enough, I’ve already told you more than I should. Look just - don’t blindly agree to any of his battle strategies, okay? He’s not as clever as he thinks he is.’  _

_ ‘What about Goku?’ _ Bulma wondered.  _ ‘Is he as kind as he seems?’ _

_ ‘I think he might be too simple to be anything but. If you did marry him you’d be happy. He likes you, and he likes getting to take his son someplace warm and welcoming with lots of books. His son likes books, apparently. He’s kind of weirdly pure. Sort of annoying to be around, actually. His thoughts make me want to gag or roll my eyes.’  _

_ ‘Thanks, Ember. Do you want something to eat? All they have here is meat, so you should be happy.’  _

“‘Yes’” He said, both in her mind and out loud. “Food would be wonderful.” Gohan dropped the brush.  

“I’m on it!”  

“No, not you that felt wonderful someone else get me some meat. Something smells like it’s been spiced, bring that. I love spicy food.”  

The rest of the evening was spent doting on Ember. The Saiyan Royal family just couldn’t get over him. A magical, talking horse was not something most of the world had seen before, and they were eager to learn more about him. Unus hung back, watching Bulma like usual, but she hadn’t spoken to her since she got back.  

Eventually, it grew late enough that Bulma had to go to bed- but she didn’t want to be alone with Unus right now. There was no avoiding it though, so she excused herself. Now that she was sure Ember was warm, fed, and being pampered she could rest properly. Well, maybe she could when she was done talking to Unus.  

As soon as they were down the corridor and out of earshot of the others, Unus started in on her.  

“What were you thinking?! How could you run off like that?! Without me! In a foreign country! DURING A WAR! Your father was assassinated less than four days ago and you’re running off by yourself! I know you were worried about Ember but that was the most moronic thing you could have-”  

“And jumping into a fight with Nappa was the smart thing?” Bulma snapped.  

“You were right there! I knew you’d be able to heal me so I just-”  

“What if he’d snapped your neck or something!? I can’t bring back the dead, Unus and you know it!”  

“He wasn’t going to-”  

“How can you know that?!”  

“I trusted that you were going to stay with me, but I guess I was wrong to do so,” Unus spat and turned to keep walking. It was the sort of moment where Bulma wanted to be as far from her friend and lover as she could get. Far, far away. But she couldn’t. Neither could Unus. At least, the risk wasn’t worth it.  

So, the two went to bed, in silence. They didn’t touch or speak. Just slept, with the silence strangling them. The relief and joy Bulma had felt from reuniting with Ember and healing the people of the town had gone. Now, she was just left feeling bitter, and helpless.  

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Please let me know what you think down in the comments! Your feedback helps me write better fic.
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 


	4. Vegeta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of the first three chapters from Prince Vegeta's point of view.
> 
>  
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 

Prince Vegeta 

He wasn’t pleased to be woken in the middle of the night. Nappa pounded on the door after what felt like only seconds of sleep and told him the Princess of the Isle of Life had arrived with only a guard and the clothes on her back. Something horrible must have happened.  

But he couldn’t force himself to care much. His mother had coughed until her throat bled last night. He’d watched her, wanted to hold her but she was being cradled by Goku. She’d always favored him. Goku, who got everything except the crown.  

He pushed his tired body out of bed and put only what he absolutely had too and shuffled out into the hall. 

“The fuck is going on?” Fasha complained when he stepped into the hall. “Something about the Princess of the Life?” She grumbled sleepily. He smirked. She would be out of it for an hour at least. She never woke up quickly.  

The whole family shuffled into the throne room, except his mother. Seeing Goku where she should be sitting made his chest hot with anger, then on top of all of this, the idiot Nappa brought the Princess in to see them wearing next to nothing. She was shivering and hugging herself as she approached in her summer garb. It looked like a sleeping dress and a housecoat of some kind.  

He could hear his mother’s voice in his mind, telling him to be a gentleman. Southern ladies were in need of affection, and care. He summoned a handmaid and told her to fetch him the white fur cloak they’d made out of the pelts of the arctic foxes he’d hunted over the years.  

Then, the princess told them her story. It was so far-fetched he hardly believed it. If not for her clothes, he would have dismissed it entirely. But as it was, she did look like a woman who’d just flown thousands of miles without stopping.  

She started crying when she told them her father was dead. Her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the sobs - but they overtook her. It became difficult not to think about his own mother and her impending death. 

Finally, the handmaid returned with the cloak, which gave him something to do. He left his throne on tired, reluctant legs, crouched in front of her and draped the cloak over the sobbing Princess’ shoulders. She looked up at him - and for a moment he was struck by how beautiful she was.  

Suddenly, he could remember so much about his summer in The Isle of Life. She’d been such a stubborn, hot-headed know-it-all then - and he’d loved every minute of it. She was funny, and loud and demanded to be treated the same as everyone else. She’d even shot Goku in the head with an arrow when he startled her during archery practice.  

She hadn’t apologized for that but insisted he not sneak up on people with a loaded and cocked bow. It hadn’t done much damage, only grazing his scalp a bit - but it bled a lot. Vegeta had liked her ever since then, and he’d always missed the Isle of Life. He’d never been so comfortable in his life than when he was there. The beds were all extra soft, and the outside air seemed to welcome you with open arms rather than biting at you for daring to step through it.  

Yet, this sobbing woman on the throne room floor hardly seemed to be the same person. She looked weak and beaten. Her eyes were filled with tears and her face was filthy, red and blotchy from the sobs while the tip of her nose, and ears had turned a little black from the cold. Despite all this, she was still stunningly pretty. 

He realized he’d been kneeling there, looking at her for a long moment.  

“Father, perhaps we can speak with her further on the matter after she’s had some sleep,” he suggested without looking over his shoulder to the King.  

His father agreed and had him take her to the pink room, which Nappa had proudly said he’d had prepared for her the minute she arrived. The princess was still crying, on the ground in a heap - so Vegeta did what his mother would have wanted. He carried her.  

She looked up at him, confused - but he was doing exactly what was expected of him; being the chivalrous prince. Then, out of nowhere, she asked where his mother was. He looked down at her and shook his head. He didn’t have it in him to admit out loud how ill she was. He only managed a short “Yes,” when she asked if they had good doctors.  

She marveled at the Pink room, and they exchanged obligatory niceties. She told him the room looked comfortable and thanked him for having her. He had to set her down, but he didn’t dare step into a single lady’s room, so he set her down, just inside the door and stepped back once he was sure she wouldn’t fall over. More obligatory niceties, where she thanked him, and he assured her it was no trouble at all, though it absolutely was trouble. Now they’d have to double the guards to protect her since her family was under attack.  

Her guard refused to leave her, even to sleep which Vegeta thought was highly suspicious, but he was too tired to care. Far too tired. He gave in without much protest and ordered the guards standing watch outside her room to report straight to Nappa and himself if anything odd happened and to not leave that spot.  

He went to find Nappa next and ordered him to double the number of guards on duty at any given time and to put extra eyes on the Princess. Either she was legitimately in danger, or she was lying, and this was some trick to overthrow them. Either Way, he didn’t much care right now. The result was the same, more guards.  

“We’ll have to pull some from the town. We don’t have the numbers for that,” Nappa explained.  

“Fine, just fill in the gaps with lieutenants from the ground troops for now. Tell them we have a surprise guest and the town needs extra protection.”  

Nappa nodded and set to carry out his orders. Finally, Vegeta could sleep.  

And sleep he did. He didn’t sleep very long, but he did sleep very deeply. It was the first time in a long while he’d been able to lay down for more than two hours without terrible back pain. It was such a relief, that when he woke up he forgot about his mother, and the Princess for a little while. It was just him, comfortable in a warm bed. It would have been perfect if he had a woman there to wake him up with her lips around his cock. Despite that, it was still good.  

His peace, however, couldn’t last long. He seemed fated to never get a moment of true peace. Frantic knocking on his door jolted him out of bed - knocking like that wasn’t good - the first thing that jumped to his mind was his mother. Had she left them in the night?! He leapt from the bed and ripped the door open.  

Fasha stood before him, flushed, and breathless. “It’s mom! She’s recovered!” Fasha yelled and ran off down the hall in barely a tunic, she was basically nude. He chased after her. When the turn for his mother’s tower came he paused, but Fasha had kept running - so he followed her. All the way to... Goku’s room.  

She darted inside without hesitation, but Vegeta paused. The cluster of castle staff crowded around the door had parted for him, and they all looked at him while he stood there - pain filling his chest. He went inside because he knew waiting wouldn’t make what he was about to see hurt any less. 

His mother was standing by the fire, arms around Goku who was on his knees, hugging her around the waist, and crying into her chest in pure relief. His father stood behind her, arms around her shoulders, and face pressed into the crook of her neck. He at least had the pride to keep his eyes dry. 

Raditz sat by the fire watching his family, while Fasha easily inserted herself into the embrace, her arms around their mother and Goku's, while Goku wrapped a long arm around her shoulders to bring her in. Tarble sat on the corner of the bed and watched with wet eyes and an arm around Gohan’s shoulders. The youngest Saiyan in the room was smiling and wiping his face on the back of his hand.  

His mother looked well. She had wet eyes, but her cheeks were rosy, and her forehead dry. She’d apparently had a bath already. So, they’d collected everyone and after the family had been here with her for a while, they’d thought of Vegeta. He was the firstborn and yet, he was last to be included in this.  

Gine was the first one to notice him.  

“Vegeta,” she said warmly, and that anger in him melted and left only hurt. He felt such pain but also relief. Relief that she was okay. He closed the door behind him, and his mother gently detangled herself from Goku, who turned to smile widely at Vegeta as their mother pulled him into a hug.  

“I’m okay. You don’t have to worry anymore.” She kissed his temple and ruffled his hair a bit. He sagged against her and hugged her tightly. He could feel the pulse in her neck under his forehead, strong and constant. Just like that, her recovery became real for him. She hugged him for a moment, before easing out of his arms to go back to his father’s and Goku’s, who was still crying pathetically. 

“I don’t think he could have handled losing you like this, not after Chi-Chi,” his father said. Goku laughed through a sob.  

And just like that, his anger was back. Of course, they were making this all about Goku. What about the rest of them? They’d nearly lost a mother too - but no. It was, as it always was, about Goku. Ever since he was born, it had been all about Goku. One minute, he’s the center of his parent's’ lives, and then he’s not even in the picture. Goku came along and he was put with a wet nurse, and only saw his parents when they had a spare minute. He was so furious he didn’t dare speak in case it came across in his tone.  

“Mom, how did this happen? How did you recover so quickly?” Fasha asked, being the first reasonable voice he’d heard so far. His mother parted from Goku, who had started to calm down. Goku went to sit by his son and Gine went to hug Raditz for a bit, and stroke his hair. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t the foggiest. Nothing changed, I just suddenly woke up better.”  

“Well, a lot’s changed, Grandma. But nothing in the doctor's treatment, right?” Gohan asked.  

“What’s changed, dear?” his mom asked.  

“Well, Princess Bulma showed up last night, and now I think we’re at war?” He said questioningly and looked to King Vegeta for answers.  

“It seems that way, Gohan but let’s hope not. It could be an isolated incident, and the Royal guards of the Isle are taking care of it now.” 

“Princess Bulma is here? What’s going on?”  

The king explained what had happened, and his mother gasped.  

“That must be it! The princess brings a blessing with her! A blessing from God. It’s a sign that we’re supposed to aid her. You know, Goku when you were children your father and I had planned to arrange a marriage between you and the Princess. Do you remember?”  

“You did?” Goku asked and looked up while he tried to recall.  

“I do,” Vegeta said, coolly. Gine looked at Vegeta and smiled understandingly.  

“That’s right, if I recall you were very jealous!” She teased. “You asked me before we left if you could stay there forever. Do you remember, darling?” She asked their Father, who chuckled and nodded. Bitterness filled Vegeta and he scoffed.  

“So proud. Just like you,” Gine said wistfully and kissed her husband.  

“We should give her a dress,” Fasha suggested. “Something Southern looking, so she feels at home. How about that one you had made for my red party?”  

“Oh! I think that would be lovely, dear. You’re very generous.” Gine hugged her daughter and kissed her temple while the girl scrunched up her face at the affection.  

“You’re kidding. That thing is ridiculous. It’s a poofy mess, she needs something warm and something she can move in to get the hell away from any attackers if they invade the castle. And you two should start wearing breast armor over your dresses,” he said, pointing to his sister and Mother. They laughed but nodded. “Fine, fine. We’ll have one made for Princess Bulma too, but in the meantime, give her Fasha’s old dress. It’ll be fitting for her,” Gine ordered.  

Vegeta fought the urge to argue and left the rest of his family alone since it looked like his mother wanted to spend as much time as she could kissing her husband. Once he was out of the room, he felt a wave of proper relief overcome him now that he wasn’t staring at his idiot brother. He had a handmaid bring the dress to him in his room while he got dressed properly.  

When she did, he almost threw it out the window. It was the stupidest dress he’d ever seen. It was poofy at the skirt, and low cut at the top. She’d freeze in this, just as Fasha nearly had at her red party. On top of that, she’d stand out like a sore thumb in the north, wearing this.  

He wasn’t going to disobey his mother, but he was going to have the handmaid's fetch the tailor to make some things for the princess that were both protective, and comfortable. Still in a foul mood, he went to get a report on the night's events from Nappa.  

“Well, she left her room once last night and returned just before dusk. She was gone for about an hour, apparently.”  

“Where did she go?” He asked.  

“Guards said she went to the Kitchens. Probably hungry after traveling for so long,” Nappa explained. “Though to be honest I’m not sure if he’s lying or not. I don’t think he followed her at all, and he’s just covering his ass but there’s no way to prove it.”  

“She’s unharmed though?” Vegeta asked.  

“Seems to be.”  

“Fine, then I don’t care.” 

“One more thing, Prince,” Nappa said before Vegeta could leave.  

“We’re getting word from the town, and people there are somehow cured of all illness and injuries too. Everyone in the Infirmary was cured when they woke up this morning. To be honest, even I’ve been healed. My knee that caused me a bit of trouble suddenly stopped last night.”  

“After the princess arrived?”  

“That’s right, your highness.” 

“Thank you for the report. Dismissed. And, Nappa - Have Unum Senio take over for a bit and get some sleep. You look like shit,” Vegeta said.  

Nappa chuckled and just walked away.  

He went to find his father and fill him in, but when he walked into his father's room - his parents were having sex. Thankfully, the curtains of the four-poster bed shielded his eyes. Now he would just have to live with the sound of his mother's breathless moans in his ear for the rest of his life.  

“Hey! They’re arranging a celebration and tournament for the guards at lunch. Raditz thinks a tournament is the best way to get a bunch of new guards to help cover the Princess while she’s here,” Fasha called to Vegeta and fell into step beside him.  

It was actually a good idea, so he just nodded. He was surprised Raditz had been the one to think of it.  

“Good.” A guard jogged up to Vegeta when he came around the corner and told him the Princess had woken up, and they were getting her ready for the day now. “Good,” he said again and had a handmaid bring him the foolish dress from his room.  

“Why do you hate it so much?” Fasha asked when he sneered down at it in disgust. “You hated it when I wore it too.”  

“A man is allowed to hate seeing that much of his little sister’s bust.” He rolled his eyes, and Fasha laughed.  

“You’re so protective. But, you were right. It was awfully cold, and that was in the summer. She’s got that cloak you gave her last night though, right? Did you want her to keep it?”  

“It would be rude to take it back now. Shouldn’t Goku be doing this? He’s the one they’re going to marry off to her.” He draped the dress over his arm and started walking towards the Pink room.  

“Yeah, but you know how thick Goku is about this sort of thing. He only cares about training and Gohan. Didn’t that cloak take like 30 pelts to make? A lot of your hours went into that thing.”  

“Yeah well,” he shrugged. He’d always planned for it to be a gift to his bride, whoever it would be, but cementing diplomatic relations with the Princess of his country's main food supplier wasn’t exactly a waste, so he didn’t think it mattered. Besides, it was too soft and ethereal looking for any proper northern lady to want.  

“You presenting the dress with me? It is yours after all.”  

“Nah, I don’t know how to talk to those proper southern ladies. Too fancy for me. I’m gonna go spar with Gohan until lunch.”  

Vegeta watched her go jealously. He wanted to go spar. Nothing sounded like more fun to him right now than punching Goku’s dumb, happy, trusting face.  

He would go after he presented the dress. That sounded right. He got to the pink room and knocked twice. He was expecting the guard to answer, looking exhausted in her armor, but much to his surprise - it was Princess Bulma. Without her housecoat.  

She stood there, in the doorway, in only a night dress. The sheer white fabric draped around her curves, the wide neck hung off one shoulder and hung low on her breasts. The fabric itself was just opaque enough that he couldn’t see details, but what he could see was the silhouette of her curvy body very clearly with the brightly lit window behind her.  

He stared at her, slack-jawed for so long that if Fasha were here she’d slap his arm. But he couldn’t look away - she was so impossibly beautiful, and despite the nightdress being dirty and torn in places from her travels, it looked soft. He wanted to push into the room and feel that soft looking fabric under his hands as he pinned her to the wall and- 

“Good afternoon. Did you sleep well?” He managed, the script of proper hosting taking over. He didn’t have to think of what to say which was good, because he didn’t think he would be able too. 

“Very well - Thank you,” The Princess stuttered. He managed to tear his eyes away from her body when she crossed her arms in front of her chest. She was flushing a bit. She must have thought he was a handmaid to answer the door like that.  

“I’ve brought you something. A gift from my family.” He held out the dress for her, his eyes soaking up the image of her silhouetted body when she extended her arms to accept it. She’d said some standard polite thank you as she took it - but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall her exact words. He only snapped out of his mind's wanderings when she stepped aside. For one wild moment, he thought she was inviting him into her room.  

Regardless of his family’s plans, he was ready to do it, to step into that room, lock the door and have every inch of her. But her eyes were looking past his shoulder, so he turned, and saw a few handmaids lining up with buckets of hot water and a tub. He moved aside.  

What now? What did he say now? Oh. Lunch.  

“My pleasure. I’ll come collect you for lunch in a little over an hour.” he croaked. She smiled politely at him and gave more thanks and expressed a desire to spend time with his family. He managed a stiff nod before he had to walk away.  

His plan to spar with Goku went out the window. Instead, he went to his room to relieve his... tension and dress a little more properly for the tournament.  

Before the celebration was officially to start, Vegeta went to Goku’s room to find him wrestling with Gohan and Fasha. He was losing.  

“Hey, idiot,” he called. Goku looked up right away, which made Fasha snort.  

“Oh, hey Vegeta! What’s up?” He asked cheerfully, despite his awkward position on the ground with Gohan and Fasha pinning him down. All three paused while the two Princes spoke. 

“The Princess should be dressed and ready. Go to the pink room and escort her to the celebration.”  

“What? I don’t wanna do that, I’m busy. You do it,” he said dismissively, then used the fact that Fasha and Gohan had relaxed their grips to turn the tables and break free. They shouted in their outrage and the wrestling continued.  

Vegeta scoffed at them and went to pick up the princess himself. She answered the door fully dressed this time. 

“Princess,” he bowed “Are you ready?” She clearly was ready, but he had to ask to be polite.  

“I am, yes. Thank you again for your hospitality.” She curtsied to him, bending so low that when her arms extended to hold her skirt out of the way, it pulled the white cloak open and he could see so much of her chest that he actively gaped.  

She apparently had much more bust than Fasha had at 13. He looked away when he felt her guard glaring at him. He just smirked at her, because she couldn’t touch him. Not unless he attacked the Princess, something he had no intention of doing no matter how much of her chest he saw.  

He extended his arm for her, as was expected, and she took it. Her hands were cold against his arm, he could feel it even through the fabric of his shirt. The guard followed behind them. The Princess thanked him for his hospitality and expressed her desire to meet with his father.  

He told her how it was unlikely they’d have time for any sort of war discussions tonight since his mother had recovered and they were celebrating. She seemed a bit surprised. Then, it occurred to him that a Northern celebration might not be the best place for a Southern lady.  

“Have you ever been to a northern celebration?” He asked.  

“No, I’m afraid not.”  

“Well, if you wish to leave the celebration, simply ask and a guard will escort you anywhere in the castle you’d like to go,” he explained. “It’s a lot of beer and fighting. While we dine, the guards will be fighting in a tournament. The Winner will be declared Knight of Winter, a title of great honor. The big bag of money is a nice prize too. Runners-up will be made guards.” He watched her face carefully to see her reaction. She looked annoyed, and for a moment he could see a flash of the girl he’d known when they were children.  

She didn’t complain, though. When they got to the throne room amongst the chaos of the tournament being set up, he introduced her to his mother. Gine told her of the healing that had spread through the town, exchanged niceties, and whisked her off right away with declarations of a marriage to unite their families. Bulma looked straight to Goku. 

Of course, Goku got everything. Vegeta was about to walk away from the two women so he could enjoy the tournament when his mother took Bulma straight over to Raditz.  

That wouldn’t do. Why had they skipped Goku? He was older. He listened closely, every muscle in his body tense. He heard his mother say something about Goku not being qualified since he was a widower. But not Raditz, surely? His mother knew what Raditz was, even if she did love him. What was she thinking, trying to marry a southern lady like Bulma off to someone like Raditz? Did she want Bulma to suffer? Tarble should come before Raditz. Tarble was weak and young but he was smart and loyal. And not a rapist. Vegeta hovered near the group and eavesdropped.  

When their mother told Raditz of her plan, he looked at the princess with the same look he had whenever he was about to assault a handmaid or a kitchen wench. But surely Raditz knew Bulma was off limits until they were married? He wouldn’t assault her, not now? Not while they were about to join a war together?  

Even if he was proper and waited until they were married… a horrific image of Raditz pinning down a sobbing Bulma flashed through his mind. It would be war. Wouldn’t it? She would be Queen, so she’d have the power to send him back and null the marriage, right?  

Raditz wasn’t being subtle, apparently because the princess spoke up in a shaky voice. “Actually, your majesty it’s only divorcees, we cannot marry. Widows, and widowers are acceptable by our laws.”  

And then Vegeta was actually relieved that Goku was going to be the one to get to move to the beautiful south and marry the even more beautiful princess. Feeling less tense, and a little more bitter, Vegeta wandered over to sit with Fasha, his favorite sibling.  

The tournament went as he’d thought it would. Good food, good beer, plenty of excellent fighting - but it was made more interesting by the fact that some guards were being healed after each fight. ‘It must be the Princess,’ Vegeta thought. Maybe his mother was right about God blessing people in her presence?  

He looked down the long table at her, and she didn’t look pleased to be here. She was very pointedly looking at her plate when Nappa shouted in pain. Her head snapped up and she looked at him. Vegeta followed her gaze to find Nappa healing before his eyes.  

Odd. He kept watching the princess, and the fighting, and as the day seeped into night he noticed something odd. Only those in the Princess’s field of vision seemed to be getting healed. He wondered if perhaps, this wasn’t so much a blessing from God after all.  

Eventually, the tournament ended with the Princess's guard dropping Nappa in one kick. Her leg looked broken after but only for a moment as he caught Bulma looking at her pointedly. Then, the celebration kicked off - Nappa looked at the blonde guard with such an expression of pride and love as he hoisted her onto his shoulder. Vegeta was surprised he didn’t propose to her on the spot. He’d never seen Nappa look at a woman like that. 

There was a group fight now, and since he had so much anger to burn off, he joined in and enjoyed knocking people out for a while. It was exhilarating, refreshing even, to let out all his pent-up anger in one glorious fight between warriors.  

His fun didn’t last though, because he noticed people had stopped healing. Worried, he looked around for the Princess and couldn’t see her. He worked his way out of the crowd and found a guard who said she’d left with the captain of the guards, Unum Senio, and two of his best men.  

The idiot left? He gathered his cloak and followed after her right away - but found Raditz a good ways ahead of him. Damnit. Raditz was going to attack her, and he’d have to swoop in and save her. He didn’t mind the Princess before, but this was just moronic. What did she need outside of the castle so badly?  

He tried to move at a good clip to get to Raditz before the idiot did something stupid like raping his brother's fiancé. 

But soon, the people from the town crowded the streets. Word must have gotten out about her “blessing” and they wanted to be healed. She was a good ways ahead of him, so these were the stragglers, blocking his path. So many of them were children. Sick children.  

He had to keep pushing through - but it was slow going. He was lucky Raditz was a stupid giant and he could see his massive mane of black hair floating above the crowd of normal height people. 

Raditz left the town and started towards the edge of the woods. Of course, her steed. She’d told them about the winged beast she’d flown here on. Maybe it was real? Vegeta was getting to the edge of the city when he saw Raditz vanish into the trees. He pushed past the people, most of them starting to follow him.  

“EVERYONE!” He bellowed. Heads turned, and when they saw who it was, they all froze. People parted, even the kids.  

“Do not follow us to the woods,” he ordered, his voice loud and echoing around the street. They all looked at one another, but no one moved to keep following Raditz. “She will be back in a few moments,” he assured them, and their faces lit up. If they loved him and his father half as much as they seemed to love her, then he’d have no problem ruling. But they didn’t. 

His path clear, he headed towards the woods - when he saw the three guards supposed to be with the Princess leaving without her.  

“You idiots! Where is the princess!?” He snarled when they got to him.  

“Your Highness! Prince Raditz dismissed us,” Captain Senio explained, his face relieved to see Vegeta. “We had no choice but to obey the Prince’s orders, of course.”  

“Idiots,” he growled and ran past them. He stumbled in the snow in his hurry and had to get up three times. He knew what he’d find when he got there. Bulma pinned down while Raditz pawed clumsily at her. He knew it, and yet he was still filled with rage when he saw it. Bulma, pinned to a tree rather than the ground, while Raditz pressed his body against hers and growled in her ear. 

“-It’s my turn to be king. I don’t care what my mother thinks, or what that idiot wants- You’ll marry me.” 

“No. I won’t,” The Princess said defiantly.  

“You will.” He knocked her cloak open and grabbed her breast with a huge meaty hand. “Once I’ve had you won’t want anyone-”  

Vegeta snapped out of his shock and started towards them to knock Raditz out when the Princess kicked him in the groin so hard, he dropped to the ground. Stunned, Vegeta stood there, watching as she elbowed him in the face. His head snapped back from the impact with a sickening sound.  

“Sir, you forget yourself. I am no Princess, I am a Queen and if you touch me again I will have you hung,” she growled. “I may not yet be crowned, but I one day will be. Who do you think your father will side with? The Queen of a wealthy land who wishes to unite our families forever? Or his idiot son who’s already made a name for himself by pawing at any woman who holds still in his presence for too long?” Raditz groaned, and she only just managed to leap out of the way before he retched all over the roots of that old tree.  

The bold woman even crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently while Raditz continued to throw up.  

“You - cunt!” He said between retches.  

“No.” She kicked him in the groin again from behind. Her leg swinging up between his legs to nail his already bruised testis. “Princess, or Bulma,” she demanded. “You’ll treat me with respect from now on, and I’ll do the same for you. And if I ever hear about you attacking some poor woman with no power to stop you again, I’ll have you hung.”  

Vegeta had never in his life been more aroused or impressed with a woman. He decided right then and there that he was going to marry her. He didn’t know how, as of yet, but he was going to make it happen one way or another.  

He decided to step in then, not that he was needed. He could feel his cheeks straining from how much he was grinning, but he couldn’t help it. Thankfully, his cloak hid his arousal.  

“Oh! Prince Vegeta!” The princess said, startled to see him, but smiling all the same.  

“Hello, Princess.”  

After a short greeting, wherein he laughed at Raditz, Bulma’s mount arrived.  

The beast was so large and so foreboding looking that Vegeta almost took a physical step away from him. Bulma ran to his side and hugged him around the neck, and he draped a protective wing over her. Somehow, the flames weren’t hurting her.  

Apparently, he was intelligent too because he spoke when Vegeta called him impressive. They joked about murdering Raditz, and then the beast's voice echoed in his mind when he spoke to them. Bulma convinced him to meet them at the castle, and they would walk back so she could heal the children.  

“Oh, by the way. Ember - that thing you do with your voice in my head…?” 

“Yes, I can read minds,” he said, voice audible to the both of them.  

A little wave of panic shot through Vegeta. Ever since he’d seen Bulma drop Raditz like that, he hadn’t been able to keep his mind from wandering to some very sexual thoughts. 

_ Active imagination you have there, Princey. Don’t worry though, I’m not going to tell Bulma your thoughts so long as you're not planning to betray or kill her or something.’  _

“Thank you,” Vegeta said and left the forest with the Princess to return home. Just as he got to the clearing though Ember decided to say one last thing specifically to frustrate him.  

_ By the way, you’re going to have one lucky wife if THAT’S the sort of thing you fantasize about doing. Too bad it’s not Bulma, she could use a good eating.’  _

He was flushed the whole way home.  

END CHAPTER 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write. I enjoy being in Vegeta's head, but I do struggle to write it well. So we won't get a ton more chapters like this. Please let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 
> 
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	5. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get a surprise arrival in the north, who brings important news with them,

Now that Ember was at the castle with her, Bulma was feeling much better. His voice in her mind was a comfort no matter how sarcastic, or dry witted he tried to be. His telepathy could reach her from his spot in the stables so she felt like he was beside her- though he wasn’t actually because she was cold unless she was in the pink room, or standing right by a fire. 

His presence was such a comfort, that she didn’t even mind Unus giving her the silent treatment. A night of tense sleep had done little to sooth either of the woman's anger at the other. 

This morning they had blessedly begun providing her with clothes more closely resembling the Queens, and Princesses, so she wasn’t nearly as cold as she had been her first day in the North.

Throughout the morning she tried not to think about what Raditz had tried. She had enough on her plate without worrying about being raped, and she didn’t want Ember to see that she was worried about it.

_‘You know it was foolish to be alone with just northern guards to protect you. Raditz has power over all of them, they can’t defend you from him like she can. You should apologize. I’m getting tired of listening to her inner monologue of anger and self pity. Also, you should say something about how strong she looked when she defeated Nappa.’_ Ember’s voice echoed in her mind, deep and soothing even when he was scolding her.

_‘It was pretty sexy to see her drop Nappa like that.’_ Bulma thought. Ember laughed. _‘What’s so funny?’_ she asked, but he wouldn’t answer. 

During breakfast, or the parade of dead things as Bulma thought of it- she tried to politely ask the King for an audience. “It’s more urgent now than ever that we speak, your Majesty. The longer we wait to take action the more my people will suffer.” 

“We will meet as soon as my brother, the General arrives. He’s been summoned but it could take a few days to get him to get here.” The King leaned back in his chair and sighed contently. How he could look so relaxed at a time like this, BUlma didn’t know.  
_‘no.’_ Ember said  
_‘please?’_  
_‘I just got here and you want me to go get some army guy, who’s never seen me before-_  
_‘Maybe Goku would go? He’d know the Captain, it’s his uncle after all. And you’re more than strong enough to carry two fully armored men.’  
‘You think he’d want to ride me?’ _

 

While Bulma was thinking with Ember, The queen smiled fondly at her husband and put her hand on top of his.  
“Is your back still okay, my love?”  
“Yes. I’m feeling incredible. This last day has been a gift.” He sighed and leaned his head back against the throne, eyes shut.  
“Did you have back problems before?” Bulma asked as she picked a raisin out of the meat pie they were served for breakfast.  
“Yes, it caused me constant pain. It was an epic battle, where in-”  
“He tried to pick up Vegeta after he’d broken a leg, and threw out his back.” Gina said, with a smug smile. The king flushed and shot his wife a glare.  
“Well, anyway. Than, you arrived and it stopped. Just like that. I slept well that night, for the first time in a very long time.”  
“Good, I feel so lucky that god has given you all this blessing for taking me in. I plan to work hard to see to it that her will is done.” That made the King and Queen look fondly at her. “After all you’re doing for my people, it’s the least I can do.”  
“Do you worship our god now?” Gine asked.  
“Hard not too, with all that’s happened since I arrived. It’s like she’s trying to put me on the right path. I’m sort of- having a crisis of faith in my own god. Maybe they’re the same god and we’ve just given them different titles? I don’t know. I just know I must listen.”  
The king raised a skeptical brow at her, but Gine nodded proudly.  
“So, your Majesty where is this Captain of yours?”  
“He’s at the southern border camp.” That was good, Bulma thought. If the king himself had put his brother at the what they called the Southern border camp, and what she called the Northern border camp it meant he was taking their alliance seriously. 

The Northern border camp was a huge military base where northern warriors trained, and lived. This meant they could be south to help The Isle fight in a hurry, it also meant they lived in more comfort than most in the north. They got better food from the South since most of the shipments would spoil before getting all the way to the Kings city. It was a display of the north and south’s alliance.  
“How far is that from here?”  
“Few hundred miles. I sent for him and the other Generals as soon as you arrived. They should be here in just a few short days.”  
“Thank you, but perhaps- If your Majesty would be willing, we could send Ember to fetch him, with Goku? Maybe? Ember likes Goku.” Bulma turned to face Goku on her left, who looked up from his bite of meat pie.  
“He does? Yeah, I’d like that. I’ve never flown before. Seems fun, and if it get’s the Captain here sooner, than I’m for it if he is-”  
_fine I’ll do it._ Ember thought, so they could all hear it.  
“That’s so weird.” Goku said, and shook his head before continuing to eat.  
It would take them some time to get used to Ember’s abilities. 

The king looked between them and stroked his beard again. “You two are already working well together. That’s good. Very well. How long would Goku be gone?” 

_a few hours._ Ember answered. 

“Is that all? Marvelous. Seems like Ember might just be the most important member of the royal party.” The king said, and Bulma was sure Ember was pleased to hear such praise. 

For the next hour or so Bulma helped Goku get ready to Fly on Ember. She and Unus were the only two here who knew what it was like to fly on Ember, and while it could be done bareback, and nearly naked it wouldn’t be wise. So, They put together a makeshift saddle for Goku, and Bulma instructed him to wear goggles, and warm clothes.

“Why the goggles?” Goku asked. 

“When you go that fast the wind in your eyes makes it hard to see, not that you need too. Ember will know the way if you’re thinking about how to get there.” 

“Woah really!? He goes that fast!?” Goku asked excitedly. Bulma smiled, and nodded patiently. Goku was sometimes like a child.

Before Bulma knew it, she was watching Ember fly away with Goku, and wishing for their safety as she healed them on the way out- just in case. 

“Princess, would you care to join me?” Vegeta asked, startling her from her thoughts as she watched Ember fly away from her, into potential danger. She’d barely noticed Vegeta approaching.

“Prince Vegeta! Yes, of course. What am I joining you for?” She took his extended arm, and he began leading her inside. 

“I was hoping you would be willing to answer some questions for me. If we’re going to save the Isle of Life I’ll need to know as much as possible about what happened, and all the resources we have at our disposal.”

_‘Finally, someone is actually taking this seriously.’_ Bulma thought. 

Vegeta escorted her to a meeting room with a large table in the center of the room. Thankfully, the room was blessedly warm due to it’s small size. She stood near the fire while Vegeta hung his cloak by the door and took a seat. Unus waited outside, to guard the door. That was unusual for her, but this was a meeting between two high ranking royals.

“What can you tell me of your army? How many men do you think will make it to fight alongside you? What of your commanders, and generals?” Vegeta pulled a stack of parchment to him and dipped his quill in ink in anticipation of her answer.

“The Isle’s army is about 30 thousand strong, and our armada has 200 active and armed ships.” She answered. “Many of the highest ranking commanders were at the castle at the time of the attack. They were discussing battle strategies with the Nameks. They might not have made it, but they all had seconds in commands across the country that stayed with their troops.”

Vegeta stared at her in surprise. “We’ve been allies for centuries, yet I never knew the Isle of Life had so many ships.” 

“We don’t advertise it, and many are disguised as pirate ships.” She shrugged. 

“I see. 200 ships?” He asked, and touched his chin thoughtfully. 

“Yes. More than enough to quickly move the northern army down the coast. First though, we need to arrange some sort of mission to gather information. Most of our highest ranking officials knew to come here if the Isle should fall, but if they can make it, it will be weeks and if they can’t… well I’d like to send a reconnaissance team right away.” 

“Yes, I think that would be best to.” Vegeta made note of the information. 

“How many men do you have in the Northern Army?” Bulma turned her back to the fire and pulled her cloak out of the way to warm her back. She’d lift her skirt and warm her butt directly if she’d been alone. 

“Nineteen thousand, which should be more the enough, since one of our fighters is worth ten of yours.” Bulma bristled at the insult. 

“Don’t over estimate what the heat can do to someone who’s never dealt with it before. Your warriors won’t be at their best, especially not after a long journey, and you can’t leave the north totally defenceless. No,I’d say, that more than anything we need a place to regroup, more than we need your fighters. Maybe some of your best could train up my troops- but I think it’s wiser to leave as many here as possible. It could be a plot to trick us into leaving the north empty, and defenceless. If the North fell, we’d be totally surrounded.”

“Hm, interesting. We’ll have to decide that after we see how many men of yours actually come to the call. Some will be lost to the initial confusion, and power gap.” 

“Yes, we’ll have to see.” She agreed, and turned around to warm her front more. 

“Aside from your father, did you have other family at the castle they could try and hold hostage as leverage against you?” 

“No.” 

“How many civilians in the capitol?”

“Hundreds of thousands.” She said.

“And how long have you been able to heal people?” 

It was lucky she was facing away from him, looking into the fire, because she was sure she looked as startled as she felt at his question. She crafted a perfect confused expression and turned to face him. 

“People around me have been being healed for a few days- since I arrived in the north, you know that.” 

His skeptical gaze lingered just a little too long before he shrugged and looked down at his parchment. “I wonder if there’s anyway we can use this in battle, without risking your life.” 

“I don’t know. I’d have to get awfully close to the battlefield for it too work, don’t you think?” 

“Perhaps, but if this really is the work of god than it could well be our soldiers will be healed even if you’re not near by.” 

A little surge of panic flooded Bulma. She didn’t want anyone going into battle thinking they would be magically healed and taking unnecessary risks when there was almost no way for her to be there and actually heal them. 

“We should assume not.” She said, voice a little less calm than she’d like it to be. 

“Why?” 

“We don’t know if that’ll happen, and we could get good fighters killed by making them think they’re unkillable.” She shook her head.

“Perhaps you could fly over them on Ember?” 

“Maybe, but what if the enemy is healed too? What if it’s just anyone who's close to me?”

“Well, clearly people who intend to harm you aren’t being healed, look at Raditz. He still isn’t walking normally.” 

“Good.” she mumbled bitterly, and looked away. She was beginning to feel like a child again. Something about the prince made her hot headed. Vegeta snickered at the memory of Raditz limping through the courtyard last night. 

“He deserved it.” Vegeta shuffled the papers around. “We need more information before we can formulate a proper plan.” 

“Ofcourse.” That was so much easier said than done. Waiting, without knowing anything was impossibly hard- and Bulma almost didn’t know how to do it. Days, or even weeks this far north without any information… And she couldn’t expect Ember to do any more errands after this. Not for a long time. Even as she stood here she couldn’t keep away the horrible thought that he’d die, and it would be her fault for sending him away. 

Vegeta put the papers away, and had the servants bring them tea. The two sat by the fire. Bulma much closer than Vegeta. 

 

“So, you think you and Goku will work out well?” Vegeta asked.

“Yeah, I do. I like him a lot. He’s kind, and brave, and he really loves his son. I wouldn’t mind being married to anyone that devoted to his family.” She turned to look at Vegeta, who was glaring into his tea. 

“Yes, most women like Goku.”

“Seems kind of like most people like him. In general. That’ll happen when you’re nice to everyone. Not too smart though, is he?” 

That made Vegeta snort with laughter.  
“And you don’t mind being married to an idiot?” 

“Just so long as he’s not a power hungry idiot who wants to overthrow me and take over my country.” 

“Well, you’re safe from that with Goku.” Vegeta said. 

“I know. What about you, Prince Vegeta? Shouldn’t you be well on your way to being married? Don’t you have someone your parents would like to arrange you with?” She turned around properly to face him without twisting her neck, and also to warm her back. 

“No, not yet. I haven’t found anyone suitable and none of our countries Ally’s have daughters available.” He shrugged. “Except for Banna, kind of. But their princess is only ten, and I think a twenty year gap is a bit much even for us.” He shrugged. 

“Ew. I hate it when they shove old men at young women. They do it all the time, too.” 

“Goku is older than you.” 

“Sure, but only by- what? How old is Goku?” She paused and tried to think. 

“28.” 

“Right, so that’s not so bad he’s only four years older than me.” She shrugged. “I’ve seen 13 year olds married off to people your father’s age, so I can’t complain.” 

“We don’t do that here.” Vegeta said smugly. “We northerns don’t want little girls, we want women. Real women.” 

“Oh? And what defines a ‘real woman’?” Bulma crossed her arms and raised her brows while she waited for the answer. 

“Well, being able to drop a man three feet taller than them sure factors in.” 

“Unus is pretty amazing.” Bulma agreed and nodded. “I didn’t think Nappa was _that_ much taller than her though.” 

Vegeta sighed, and rolled his eyes a little. 

The rest of the day trickled past slowly. Bulma was too worried about Ember and Goku to be able to focus on any book, so she ended up sitting in the window of the pink room, and watching people in the town square, looking them over as they came into her line of sight to heal them. 

Every so often she’d see someone crumpled up, and limping, but once they were healed they’d stand up straight, leap with joy and run off. It was far enough away that she couldn’t see faces, or even really gender. One person came running into the square, franticly running around the statue in the middle holding a child up, towards the sky- Bulma frowned and healed the person and the child. Word must have been spreading, because more people were arriving and lingering in the square. 

So she sat there, all day. When they came to collect her for lunch, she told Prince Vegeta that she wasn’t feeling well, and wanted to just rest a bit, unless something important was planned for the meal. 

“No, nothing right now. Not until the general get’s here. I’ll have them bring lunch to your room. How exactly are you unwell? Is god not healing you?” Vegeta asked, his tone thick with worry. 

“No, she is.” Bulma said quickly, realizing the fault in her lie, but coming up with a good not-lie instead. “I just- need some time alone. I can’t stop thinking about my father.” She didn’t turned to look at Vegeta, so he’d assume she was hiding her tears.

“Oh. I see. Very well, I’ll have the handmaid's bring you lunch than. Is there anything else I can do?” 

“No, thank you though.” She put a little crack into her voice, for effect- only it ended up being real. Now that she’d said it she really was thinking about her father, and she couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat this time. 

The door clicked shut behind her, and as soon as it did she let herself cry. She kept looking out the window at the town square, and healing people through her tears, but it got so crowded she could hardly tell where one body began and the other ended. People would sometimes hold up a child so they could be seen above the crowd, or maybe it was to put them closer to god? Bulma didn’t know, but she healed all the children she could see, and eventually had to gradually stop healing people, else more would get hurt in that chaos than she would be helping. 

_’Never fear, for I am here!’_ Ember’s voice echoed in her mind suddenly, making her jump. 

“Ember!!” Bulma yelled, and ran out of the room, through the castle and into the courtyard. Unus was on her tail, the moment she jumped up.

Vegeta was leaning on the wall near the door to the castle, arms crossed while he watched everyone clamber off of Ember’s back. Bulma ran right past him, wanting to throw her arms around Ember and heal him- but she was in such a hurry that when Goku slid off his back, right between she and Ember there was no time to stop. Goku smiled brightly at Bulma as she crashed into him. He seemed to think she was excitedly hugging him though, because he threw his long arms around her waist and picked her up to spin them both around. 

“BULMA! IT WAS AMAZING! EMBER CAN FLY SO FAST I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA-” Just than, from behind Goku and on the other side of Ember, the General threw up. “YEAH! THAT!” Goku beamed at her, and hugged her again. He gave very tight hugs. It almost hurt.

_’I don’t have the heart to tell him he’s never riding me again. Later, I will though.’_ Ember thought. 

_Did he hurt you?_

_He’s used to riding a horse. He kept jerking the harness around to try and steer me rather than just telling me which way to go.’_ He shook his head to knock his mane out of his eyes and made an annoyed neighing sound. 

“You should be careful, next time. He’s not a horse, you know. You just ride, you don’t have to steer or guide him-”

“Oh! RIght! He said that- Sorry, Ember I didn’t mean too- are you okay?” Goku patted Ember’s neck, and Bulma looked them both over. 

“Yes.” Ember said, voice relieved. “But I would like a meal, and a brushing. Maybe even a hot bath.” 

“I don’t think we have a tub big enough for you!” Goku said in amazement. 

“Well have them build one, and then I’ll have a hot bath.”

Bulma moved around Goku to hug Ember around the neck.  
_Thank you, my friend._ She thought. _I love you. I’m never sending you off on an errand without me like that again. What if you’d been hurt? I was a fool to ask it of you._

“Do I get a hug too?” Asked a deep, gruff voice from behind her. Surprised, Bulma spun around to find-

“Piccolo?!” She gasphed. “Is it- how!?” She rushed forward and practically jumped into his arms. He was so tall, that he had to bend a little to properly hug her. As soon as his arms closed around in her a tight, comforting hug she broke down again.

She was crying a lot lately, but Piccolo's hug made her feel like suddenly everything had happened again, all at once. Somehow it wasn’t as bad as before. She started to sink to the ground. He crouched with her. 

_Not the reaction i was hoping for but hey, good enough._

She didn’t notice that at some point, they’d ushered her inside, to the royal family's main lounge. Piccolo held her the whole time. When she did come back to herself, she looked around and found the Family’s lounge was very warm, and comfortable with plush chairs and fur rugs. Piccolo had settled them in by the fire, to wait for her to calm down apparently. He must have been as cold as she always was. 

“How did this happen? How are you-” 

“I stopped off at the Northern Border Camp on my way up here, to see if there was news of you. I knew if you’d rode Ember you’d be safe in the north already, but i wasn’t sure if you’d made it out. When I got there, I found Goku with Ember, collecting General Bardock.” 

Said General coughed a bit and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He apparently didn’t love flying. 

“I’m so relieved you’re okay- Tell me everything.” 

Piccolo sighed and seemed to be bracing himself to relive what had happened at the castle.“It was the Berserkers, and their rag tag country of outcasts.” He said. “The gas they used was the same stuff they tried when they attacked Namek, but it didn’t work on us. It still doesn’t, apparently. They seemed to make a B line for you, and your father. There were losses, but not as many as there could have been. Krillin is okay, so is Unun Sept.” He said, eyes flickering up to Unus, who visibly relaxed at the news her brother was okay. 

“They are? Thank god. How can you be sure it was the Berserkers? I didn’t see any sigil?” 

“No sigil _is_ their sigil. The land without a king, they call themselves.” 

“I thought they had the Cold Family.” She frowned, and shifted to sit on her knees, rather than half laying in Piccolo’s arms. The position felt more attentive. 

“They do. That’s why they’re idiots. They say they have no king yet they blindly follow King Cold and his sons.” Piccolo shuttered at the memory of the people who attacked his homeland. 

“So- so wait you’re not part of the Namekian army, Piccolo?” Goku asked, clearly confused by how close he was with Bulma. 

“No, I’m an ambassador. I’ve lived in the Isle of Life’s castle since before Bulma was born.” 

Bulma nodded, and touched her lips while she thought. Of course they wanted the Isle. It was one of the most temperate and comfortable places to live on the planet. It was wealthy in food and land, which meant more than gold and gemstones in the grand scheme of things. But why send an elite team to attack the castle directly? Why not invade with an army? If they had killed Bulma, and her father there would be no royal family left. Were they hoping to avoid a war by taking out the royal family and presenting themselves as the new royal family? Did they really think the people of the Isle of life would just accept that? Just betray their king and let the berserkers in? 

“What did the guards do after I left?” Bulma sked. 

“They rallied to protect the remaining dignitaries and get them out of the castle. Most of them are traveling with a caravan now towards the coast to get on a ship.”

“What of my people?” 

“They’re confused. They have no leadership, but the army is standing strong. The first Platoon surrounded the castle. When I left, they were waiting for the gas to subside, than they were going to clear it out. They’re being lead by Admiral Krillin.” 

“I shouldn’t have left- they need me.” She got to her feet and started to the door with such speed and determination that everyone was stunned for a moment. It was Unus who acted first, and blocked the door. 

“Princess….” 

“Unus, step aside.” 

“You need to wait until we have a proper plan- you alone charging in won’t help anything if you’re killed too!” Piccolo said with such an air of command, that for a moment Bulma felt like a child again. 

“I wasn’t going to the castle. I was going to go to the northern border camp to send word to the people that I’m alive, and that help is coming. Those Berserkers, they’re in my home. They’ve taken my castle and-” 

“And your army is holding. I’m sure of it.” 

“Not if they’ve got that gas!” 

“Princess, I can have word sent to this Admiral Krillin to tell the people you’re alive and well, and that help is coming.” Vegeta assured her. “They’ll rally knowing you’re alright.” 

“Yes, they will. Let Krillin do his job.” Piccolo put his hands on his hips in a way that gave Bulma flashbacks to being 10 and trying to sneak into the kitchen to get a treat.

“I will, I just- I need to be there to protect them.” She twisted the hem of her beautiful white fur cloak in her hands, worriedly. 

“That’s right! Vegeta, my son when you send word tell them of the gods blessing! That she’s gifted those around the princess with health! They don’t know yet- that’s sure to help!” The queen stood up, and looked around the room, smiling widely. 

“What?” Bardock and Piccolo asked at once. They exchanged tense looks of dislike. 

“Ever since the princess has arrived in the north, we’ve all been being healed! I was very near death myself, but the same night she arrived, I was suddenly cured.” Gina beamed at Piccolo. “It’s our god, protecting us for helping her and the Isle of Life. It’s a sign that we’re carrying out her will.” 

Piccolo fixed Bulma with a glare.  
“Really? How fortuitous.” He said cooly. 

Bulma looked away from him to her hands, trying not to look too guilty. But Vegeta noticed.  
“First things first, now that I know who’s in command down there, we send word to Krillin, and the other generals at the seaside outposts and request a status report. When we know more we formulate a proper plan.” 

“What if we just… sent a team of assassins to kill the king cold and his kids?” Goku asked, and rubbed the back of his neck. Everyone looked at him in silence.  
“Erm- I mean, they’re a land of criminals, and bandits and stuff right? King Cold is the first one to get them to actually follow him in over a hundred years, right? It’s not like us, or the Isle with a long line of Kings and Queens.” He gestured to Bulma when he said the word ‘queens’. “ We just need to kill the Cold family, and they’ll have no leader, and no structure, and scatter.” 

Silence while everyone thought this over. 

If the Cold Family had a backup plan though- or they were just puppets, it would be falling for their trap. But at what cost? If the small team was killed it would be horrible, but would it be worth the risk? A few warriors lives, for maybe preventing a war and saving thousands?

“If they have more gas, no one is going into that castle at all.” Piccolo said. “Unless they’re Namekian.” 

“Piccolo, could you put together a skilled team of Namekians to try?” Bulma asked. “The Isle has always been a powerful ally to the Nameks. We sent half our navy to defend Namek when the Berserkers attacked.”

“I remember, Princess. You were only five at the time, so I dare say I remember better than you.” That Made Bulma flush with a bit of shame. Seeing her reaction, his face softened. “I’ll send word to the Grand Elder of Namek, and ask him for aid. I’m sure they’ll be able to send a skilled team.”  
“Thank you.” 

“So, it looks like for now we’re all sending a bunch of letters.” Goku clapped his hand. “We should celebrate!” That made the King laugh, and Bardock chuckle, but no one else. Bardock’s chuckle made Bulma look over the General, and for a moment she was startled by how much he looked like Goku. She’d been so distracted that she didn’t think to pay him any mind. 

“No parties, not anymore. A meal, yes.” The king conceded. “Oh, Piccolo. Namekians are vegetarian, right?” 

“Yes, we are.” 

“Very well. Have the kitchen making him something without meat.” The king ordered the room in general. 

Prince Vegeta rolled his eyes and left, presumably to tell the right people to make it happen. 

“Now, if you don’t mind, your majesty I’d like a word with the princess alone.” Piccolo said, and Bulma felt a stab of dread, and panic. 

“Oh, Piccolo, no need for that we’ll have time later-” She said eagerly. 

“Of course, We don’t mind at all. Guards, escort the guests to one of the lounges.” The King ordered, and two guards came to collect them. 

The walk down the hall towards a lounge was slow, and dreadful. Bulma knew that the moment she was alone with Piccolo the lecture would start. She knew he was going to be angry.  
Each step felt shakier than the last. What business did she have being so afraid of Piccolo? He had no real say in what she did. Not anymore. He could only advise her. He could only tell her what he thought she should do. She wasn’t a child anymore, and yet here she was, feeling like a ten year old about to be scolded. 

The guards arrived at a suitable Lounge, and stood aside. Unus, who usually came into every room with her lingered outside. Even Unus was afraid of Piccolo. That knowledge made the last step over the threshold feel like stepping off a cliff and plummeting into nothingness. 

Bulma took a deep breath while she stepped inside, and closed the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:) GREEN DAD IS BEST DAD 2k17!
> 
> I'm so happy Piccolo is here. I love him so much. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think of the fic so far in the comments! 
> 
> Also, I made some [art](http://neala-ernswa.tumblr.com/post/167625836362/hindsight-a-vegebul-fanfic) for the fic! I hope you like it!


	6. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma tells Vegeta how she got her mysterious power.

“Was this your plan?” Piccolo asked as soon as the latch on the door clicked shut behind them. 

“Making them think it was holy intervention, or something? Your healing.” He crossed her arms and frowned at her. 

“It was, yes. There’s precedent in their religious mythos, so it’s not too out there.” She forced herself to stand up straight, despite feeling like slouching and staring at the ground. 

“I wasn’t questioning whether or not it makes sense. Why do you trust them so little? The Northerners, have always been your allies, in peace and war.” 

“What do you mean? Of Course I trust them. I came straight here after all.” She said defensively.

“Than why the deceit? Why not trust them to help you as they always have without divine intervention?” 

That made Bulma look away from his firm eyes.  
“I didn’t want them to think it was me. Not directly.” 

“Why?”

“To protect them. If King Cold found out, don’t you think he’d-” 

Her jaw dropped and she stared at Piccolo, the shock of her realization freezing her. 

“...they know.” She breathed. “They know about my power- that’s why they attacked the castle rather than declaring war! They just wanted to capture me, and force me to protect them!” 

Piccolo’s frown deeped.  
“That makes more sense than hoping that by killing you and your father they would be able to take over The Isle. They must not have known about Ember, so they didn’t know you had a way to escape by air.” He began pacing the room. 

“So… the gas wasn’t to kill me, they knew I could heal, they were just hoping to kill as many guards as possible before I woke up!” She gasphed. “We just need to find out who told them about me! Who- who would have even thought to- I didn’t think anyone knew aside from father, Ember, Unus, and you.” She chewed her lip nervously. “But it’s possible one of the castle squires or maids noticed and… and told.” 

“I think we need to tell the royal family about this.” Piccolo said. “If King Cold knows, he’ll be coming here to find you as soon as word gets out. He might know already if they’re torturing people for information-” He cut himself off suddenly and threw a nervous look to Bulma. He realized too late what he’d said, and it couldn’t be taken back now. 

Torture? They were torturing people because of her? Cold seeped into her, deeper and more frigid than any cold the north could wrap her in. 

“Maybe he’s not, I doubt anyone who knew anything was left alive in the castle anyway.” 

“But… He’ll keep killing and torturing people until he gets me.” She said softly, too horrified to put any volume to her voice. “Why would he? If he gets me, than he gets….” 

“Invulnerability.”

“No. I wouldn’t do it. He could hurt me all he wanted and I’d just heal myself.” 

“What if he had me, or Krillin, or Unus. What if he was hurting them, and you knew he was but you couldn’t see them? Would you let them die or suffer?” He asked doubtfully. 

“Y- yes. I would.” She said it because she knew it was the right answer from a leader, not because she thought she would actually be able to do it. 

“I doubt it.” He shook his head. “We need to tell King Vegeta.” 

“But- than they’ll know I was lying and-” 

“Lying to protect them. I’m sure they’ll understand. They can’t help us without the right information.” 

“They already know I’m a target, how will this-” But she didn’t continue the question. She knew the answer. This made her an urgent target. Before now, as far as the King was concerned she wasn’t a priority to King Cold. Sure, they’d kill her when they got the chance but there was no rush to get to her. But now…  
“I’ll tell them. Let me just- Let me ask Vegeta what he thinks I should do first.” 

“Prince Vegeta?” Piccolo raised a brow at her. “Why? Did they arrange a marriage between you two? I thought they’d planned on Goku, but since he’s married maybe now Raditz?” 

“No, um- Goku’s wife died, so they want me to marry Goku. It’s just… I’m pretty sure Prince Vegeta already knows.” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“So, they’d have you marry a widower before a bachelor?” Piccolo asked. “Odd.” 

“I’m not complaining. Raditz… um….” Bulma thought about telling Piccolo what happened. She didn’t want too, but she knew if he found out some other way he’d distrust her. “He tried to rape me, yesterday-”

Piccolo’s head snapped up so fast Bulma jumped. 

“I’m okay though! He didn’t! He just- erm- sort of tried too.” 

“What stopped him?” Piccolo asked, voice carefully calm. 

“My foot against his manhood.” She said smugly, which made Piccolo smirk proudly at her. “Prince Vegeta knows, and he’s not letting Raditz near me now- that’s kind of why I trust him.

“Alright. Let’s get the guards to bring him here, and I’ll go send word to the grand elder.” 

“Thank you.” Bulma hugged him again. He’d always been her favorite adult as a child, and he still sort of was. He’d never spoken down to her, or treated her like a helpless fool. While every other world leader used baby-talk and a condescending tone, Piccolo was always honest with her, if not a little protective. After her mom died, he became like a second Dad to her. 

The guards fetched the prince. When he got there, Piccolo clapped him on the shoulder.  
“You’re a good man.” He said with an approving nod before passing him and leaving the two alone. 

“What was that about?” Vegeta asked as he stared at the door for a moment, puzzled. 

“I told him about Raditz, and how you’ve been keeping him away from me.” 

“You noticed?” Vegeta looked genuinely surprised at this as he took a seat. 

“Of course I did. Thank you.” She took her place, near the fire as usual. 

“What was it you wanted to speak about? More news from the south?” 

“Yes, actually. I’m- I’m afraid Piccolo and I realized something. We both believe that King Cold and his sons weren’t just trying to kill my father and I. We believe he was trying to capture me.” She looked him dead in the eyes the whole time she spoke, because she wanted to look away. Ashamed. But she needed to be strong.

“Because it’s you, doing the healing. Isn’t it?” Vegeta asked, without even a note of surprise in his tone. “I suspected as much.” 

“I know. You made that clear.” Bulma let out a shaky breath. Coming clean was humiliating. “I’m sorry for deceiving you, and your family. But if word got out about my power than people would surely talk, and word would spread to Cold, and he would- but if he already knows…. Than it’s useless to hide it now.” 

Vegeta tapped his lips thoughtfully and tore his eyes away from her to look at the fire.  
“I would have done the same. We should tell my family. It won’t change much. The guard is already more than doubled, and you do have Ember- though now I would suggest we put you in one of the towers with a high balcony so he can be near you at all times for a quick escape.”

“They probably saw him when we escaped last time. We had to fly right over the town, in plain view. They know he’s with me now, and putting him right by my room would be like putting a flag out of my window.” 

“Fair. Still, we should move you from the pink room. It’s the obvious choice for a southern lady, so anyone trying to get to you would look there first.” He jotted that task down on his list of things to do. Bulma wanted to argue, but that did make sense. She just wanted to stay in the warmth of the pink room, with it’s wooden walls and plush rugs. 

“So, are you going to tell me now how you got this power?”

“It’s not relevant. There’s no way to get more powers like mine.”

“There’s not?” Vegeta leaned towards her. “How can you be sure?” There was a hardness to his eyes that told her he wouldn’t trust her. Not unless she was honest. 

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was about to lose him as a ally. As a friend. He would become cold, distant, and want nothing to do with her after what she was going to say. 

“When I was nine, one day my tutor was ill. The guards forgot to tell anyone ahead of time, since there was a royal visit around the corner, and my mother was very, very sick. So they didn’t notice when I slipped away to explore. I had so little alone time… you understand.” She gestured to Vegeta, someone in her position who would understand how it felt to be watched constantly. He nodded quietly. 

“I had once seen my father use a secret door- so I went and found it, and looked around inside. Through a couple of doors, and deep underground I found myself in a huge cavern. Empty, but for seven orange balls that looked like glass. Each one had stars in the middle. The first had one, the second had two and so on.

“They were set in a circle, and in the middle of that circle was a note card with the word “Shenron.” on it. Being nine, I thought it was a funny name so I said it, and- next thing I know, the balls are glowing and a huge dragon pops out of them. So massive, he filled the underground chamber. But than he smiled, with his dragon mouth. So I wasn’t afraid. I asked who he was, and he told me he was Shenron. I asked if he’d been stuck inside those balls for very long, and he said a thousand, thousand years. I asked him if there was anything I could do to get him out- and he said all I had to do was wish for it. So I did.

“Than, the balls turned to stone, and the light vanished but he was still there, huge with glowing eyes. Looking back, I understand now that he was surprised. He said no one had ever thought to ask about his freedom. He said that as thanks he could give me three wishes. I thought of my mother right away and wished for the power to heal. His eyes glew more brightly, and he said “Now all you need to do is look at any living thing and decide to heal it. Any wound, any sickness, will be healed.” I was so excited, I began to run off but he called me back and reminded me I had two wishes left. So, I wished to slowly become beautiful as I grew up, and for Ember. He vanished after that.” She let out the breath she’d been holding, and looked away from Vegeta to stare at the fire. 

“At age ten you wished for a giant, black, flaming, winged horse?” Vegeta asked after a long pause while he absorbed the information. 

“No, I wished for a flying pony.” She smiled at the memory of Ember appearing out of thin air, and how excited she’d been. She’d not even noticed he was frightening to look at until she saw someone else jump in fear at the look of him. 

“And… The dragon gave you Ember? Seems like he was pretty benevolent about the healing wish to make it work so well when he could have messed it up somehow.”

 

“I’ve been thinking about that moment for more than ten years. I think he was so kind with the healing because it was pretty selfless. The last two though… were very selfish. But all the wish’s have downsides. Some I should have been able to see coming.” She crossed her arms loosely in front of her chest so she could hold onto herself without looking like she was closed off. 

“Yeah, but I don’t know of many eight year olds who wouldn’t wish for beauty and a pony. Honestly I’m just surprised you had the foresight to ask to slowly become beautiful as you grew up.” 

“I thought if I suddenly looked completely different my father wouldn’t recognize me and I’d lose my home.” She said with a sad little smile. 

“I mean, it wouldn’t have been a total transformation. You were never ugly, and neither was your mother. I saw all the portraits around your castle while I was there. The artists never exaggerate your father’s looks, so I doubt they did for your mother. She was beautiful, and she looked like you when you were a child, just blond with narrower eyes.” He shrugged. 

“But now we’ll never know what I’d look like without the wish. Of all the stupid things to wish for. I mean for god's sake I’m a princess. The fact that I’m well fed and have all my teeth already makes me better looking than the common person. I could have wished for battle genius. Or the ability to see the future so I could always be ready- but no. I wanted to be pretty.” She sneered into the fire and shook her head bitterly. 

“This has been bothering you for a long time, hasn’t it?” Vegeta asked. 

“Yeah, I suppose it has.” 

“Hm. Well, you should try to forgive your eight year old self. She didn’t have the same hindsight you have now.” 

“Sure.” She said, just glad to drop the subject. She was still so mad at her younger self that if left to it she’d rant on and on about the foolishness of wishing for beauty. 

“So, tell me... if you got the healing power before your mother died than… why did she?” 

Bulma had been dreading this.  
“There’s a downside to my power. After the dragon vanished I ran straight to her rooms, but when I got there- it was too late. She was gone. I tried to heal her anyway, and… something horrible happened.” She was properly hugging herself now. The guise of loosely wrapped arms completely gone. She turned away from the fire to look straight into Vegeta’s eyes. 

“Do you know what happens when you heal a dead body of all wounds??” He shook his head, brow furrowed. “It moves. It gets up, and looks around. It looks alive, it has a pulse. But it’s not the person it once was. It’s just an alive body with no soul, no thought. My healing doesn’t bring back the soul. Once that’s gone, the body becomes a monster whose only goal is to feed itself. Like an animal. When I tried healing my mother- she became like that. A Monster. She sat up and for a moment we thought- but then she tried to bite my father- and the guards had to stab her.” 

“So yesterday, on the way back from the woods. That’s why you didn’t heal the baby until you saw it breathing.” He said in realization. “I see.” 

“I don’t want the people to know about this power, else they fear it. But it can be useful. We just to get me within eyesight of the battle field, and I’ll be able to turn their fallen dead into monsters that attack their allies. They’ll be too busy fighting one another to fight us.” 

“What about our men? The monsters will attack our men too.” 

“We bring ranged archers, and have them fire towards the back. Than, I only turn the ones at the very back of the line so that they have to go through several lines of alive allies to get to ours. And, we’ll warn them about it. They won’t be surprised like the cold army would be. That is, if we ever end up in direct battle with them. Seems more like King Cold’s style is to attack the leaders directly.”

“So, we put you with Unus, and Nappa and they’ll be all but unbeatable with you healing them after each blow.” 

“An arrow to the head will still kill them. I can’t make someone unstoppable, I can just make them really hard to stop.” 

“But only if you’re in eyesight of the battle, which frankly, is too close.” 

“You fight in battles.” 

“I’m a northerner. I’ve been taught how to fight my whole life, and no I don’t really fight in battles. I’m heir to the throne. I show up, say something inspiring to the warriors, and then I leave before the battle get’s really going.” 

There was a touch of shame to his words, not unlike Bulma’s when she told him about her wishes. 

“That’s wise, though. You’re a king- or you will be. You certainly act like a king. Seems to me you do most of the work in your family.” She said with a hint of a laugh in her voice. That made Vegeta give a little half smile. 

“It’s a northern tradition to spend time with a loved one after they’ve recovered from an illness. They’ll be like this for a week or so, and besides it gives me a chance to prove to my father that I’ll be a better King than he ever was.” 

“Your father is a good king, though.” Bulma said quickly, before it could be assumed she was agreeing with any ill word to the current king. 

“He is. But I’m going to be a great king. I’m going to be the King that’s remembered throughout history for dramatically bettering the lives of each and every one of my subjects. They’ll talk about me for centuries.” He said very smugly as he stroked his chin, smirk playing on his lips. 

Intrigued, Bulma left her spot by the fire and sat beside him.  
“Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?” She asked. He exhaled through his nose and looked her over for a moment. 

“I’ll tell you when it becomes relevant.” He pushed his sleeves up past his elbow and took the quill in hand to add a few things to his to-do list. He had very attractive arms, she noticed. 

Bulma had always had a bit of a weakness for a strong handsome pair of hands and forearms. Vegeta had a strength, but also a grace to his hands that she’d never noticed before. His penmanship was excellent, which she found a little surprising. She’d always imagined Northerners wrote with short fat messy print like a child, but that was apparently prejudice of her. 

“Is there a reason you’re reading my list?” Vegeta asked, while he continued to glide his quill over the parchment. 

“Is is private?” She asked, not looking away. 

“No, or I wouldn’t be writing it in front of you, but I hardly think it’s as interesting as you seem to think it is.” 

“I’m just correcting a prejudice misconception I’ve apparently had my whole life.” She propped her chin up with her elbows on the table. 

“Really? Did you think Northerners couldn’t read, or something?” He chuckled. 

“No, of course nothing that bad, but I must say I am surprised by your penmanship, even though i have no real reason to be. It’s lovely.” Vegeta frowned at her as if she’d just said the strangest thing. 

“I’m a prince. I’ve spent my whole life in lessons, did you really think I would have-”

“No, I didn't think that at all, yet I was still a bit surprised. That’s why I said I was correcting a misconception within myself, you know.” She shrugged, but she wasn’t really staring at his writing. Not anymore.

“Well, I guess you thought we brutish northerners couldn’t be graceful, just like I thought you delicate southerners couldn’t be strong. I guess we were both proven wrong.” 

She looked up from his hands, to his face to see him smirking at her with that same look he’d had yesterday in the clearing after she’d kicked Raditz. The look that was so confusing to her. It had a touch of that lust she was used to seeing in men’s eyes, but more than anything it was… pride? She just didn’t know for sure. But she knew her heart leapt when he looked at her like that. 

She was at a loss for words, for a moment. But she didn’t need to say anything. There was nothing to be said. The silence between them was strangely comfortable, as he looked back down at his list and continued adding things, while she watched his strong, graceful hand glide across the paper and wondered what it would be like to feel those hands on her body. 

But the world was intent on giving her no peace. Goku burst into the room, breathless. “Something happened to raditz!” He shouted, and ran outside. Vegeta and Bulma exchanged a worried look, and they both chased after Goku.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. Some CHEMISTRY, amiright?  
> Thanks for reading this chapter, everyone! I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think in the comments! Did you all like Bulma's backstory?


	7. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day! I couldn't leave you all on a cliff hanger.

Northern clothes were better suited for running then Bulma would have expected. The soft soled shoes, and the simple skirt that was easy to hike up made it easy to run after Vegeta and Goku. Raditz- was he killed? Hurt? Who’d done it? The Cold family? Or- She thought of Piccolo and panic welled up inside her.

Oh no. He hadn’t. He couldn’t have- but some part of her knew already. 

They chased Goku through the castle, all the way to the infirmary. If it was Piccolo, he was in trouble, if it was the Cold family, she was in trouble. Regardless of what he’d done she couldn’t let him die. Not when she knew she had to come clean to the royal family about her healing powers.

They heard his screams of agony from down the hall. Vegeta paused at the shrill sound of it- but Bulma speed up- the sound of such pain egging her on to go faster to get to him and to make it stop. Even if he’d tried to rape her- that sound, from anyone made her frantic. Despite the screams, she wasn’t expecting to see anything like what she found when she skidded into the infirmary. 

Raditz was laying on his back, surrounded by family trying to hold him down while a doctor tried to help. His hands were gone, his hair was butchered, and his face more than a little bruised. The doctor tried to put a hot stone on the bloody stumps. Fasha was right at his side, wrestling one thick arm to keep it still- while Gina wrestled his other arm. Goku who’d arrived a moment before was rushing to Gina’s side to help. King Vegeta stood at the end of the room, arms crossed, glaring at his shrieking son. 

Bulma looked at Raditz, and healed him. Unlike with most injuries, this healing wasn’t an instant wave of relief- but more agony as tiny hands shot out of his stumps horribly and grew. Nails ripped out of the flesh and bone cracked and popped into place until his hands were back. 

Raditz gasped and thrashed in shock, and relief as the pain stopped, but it had stopped so suddenly his heart still raced. Bulma knew this pain. She stepped forward. He was half crying, half gasping for breath as he shook violently. 

He looked wildly around for the source of the healing, and saw Bulma. His eyes bugged out of his head, and he pushed off the table. She couldn’t tell if he had fallen to his knees, or if it was intentional- but he crawled forward regardless and pressed his forehead to the ground at Bulma’s feet, startling her, his mother, sister, and Goku. 

Both Vegeta’s wore matching looks of distaste, and anger. 

“Princess! I’m so sorry.” He sobbed. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I promise, I’ll never-” He gasped, and shook so much between each word that Bulma actually felt sorry for him.

She crouched down and pulled him up by the shoulder, gently. His face was wet with snot, and tears.  
“I’m sorry.” He cried. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Thank you, Raditz. For your apology. It’s okay now. I forgive you.” She hugged him than, pulling him into her arms and cradling his head against her chest. “Take these new hands as a new start, and never assault a woman with them.” 

He nodded vigorously, and broke down into howls of regret, and pain. The physical pain was gone, and she didn’t know how much of this was guilt, and how much was at the embarrassment of being found out by his family, but- She didn’t care. That agony had to be enough of a punishment. She couldn’t stay mad- not after seeing him like that. She wondered if she was weak. 

“So it’s true? He did try to rape you?” King Vegeta asked.  
Bulma nodded, but to her surprise so did Raditz. Gina shook her head in disappointment, and covered her mouth with her hands while Fasha looked horror struck. 

“How did you find out?” 

“Ambassador Piccolo. He came to find me in the lounge and told me he’d cut Raditz hands for trying to rape you, and that Raditz was bleeding out in the hall.” Bulma went pale, Raditz still shaking and crying into arms, having sunk a bit to her lap more than her chest. 

“He- Your Majesty- Piccolo helped raise me, he’s like a father to me. He was just- Please forgive him, Your majesty. Please don’t-”

“There’s nothing to forgive. If someone had tried to rape my daughter, he’d be dead. Not just wounded.” That surprised Bulma. “My only concern, is that you didn’t tell me, Princess. Just because he’s my son doesn’t mean he can do as he likes to a royal guest. I don’t know how you got the idea that I would protect him after such a betrayal, but know now that such behavior will never be tolerated here in the North.” 

“Thank you, Your majesty. It would seem that today I’m losing a lot of my misconceptions about the North and it’s culture.” Bulma gently removed herself from Raditz, unable to bare touching him any longer. 

“Take him to the dungeons.” The king barked at a guard once Bulma was on her feet again. She went to stand near Vegeta, out of habit, but he shook his head, eyes wide and angry.  
“Tomorrow at dawn we execute him.” The king said.  
“What! Wasn’t that punishment enough?!” Bulma gasphed, horrified. “He’s-”  
“Honey.” Gine said, rushing to her husband and taking his hand in her own. “The princess forgave him. She is the one he wronged and if she thinks he’s worthy of forgiveness we should- we should let him live.” 

The king pursed his lips, and looked over at Bulma.  
“You think he deserves another chance?”  
“I’ve felt that sort of pain, your Majesty. It will be as a reminder to him for as long as he lives. Weather he dies tomorrow, or in forty years.” 

“Very well. Raditz, I assign you to the southern border camp, and strip you of all nobel rank. You will remain a General, but you will ever marry a noble lady, and you will never own lands, and you are ineligible for the throne, and so are any children you may have and all of your descendants. They will hold no more power than any common citizen.” The king stormed from the room, his cloak billowing behind him. 

“Mother?” Raditz pleaded weakly. Gina wiped her face and turned to him, disgusted.  
“I didn’t raise you like this. To do things so horrible. No wonder god didn’t heal you when Bulma got here. She knew what you were. But now, she had healed you. Which means apparently she see’s reason to give you another chance. I wish I could see what she sees. But I don’t. Good bye.” The coldness of her words made Bulma’s jaw drop.Gine followed her husband out of the room, leaving a sobbing Raditz on the ground. 

Bulma had no idea what to do now. She looked around at Vegeta, Goku, and Fasha- but they were all glaring at Raditz, or the wall. Eventually, Goku extended his arm to Bulma.  
“Come on, let’s go.” 

Bulma took Goku’s arm, and left with him. She threw one last look over her shoulder as they left and saw Vegeta crouch next to his brother and put a hand on his back. 

“I had no idea the north was so…”

“So what?” Goku asked, frowning at her. 

“I don’t know. Pro-women, I guess? In the south if a man does such a thing… even if he’s successful, it’s hard to prove.” 

“Weird.” Goku said, and shook his head. “I agree with father. I’d kill anyone who did that to Fasha, or Mom or- Gohan, or anyone I care about. Wouldn’t your father?” 

“Of course.” She nodded. 

“So, are you okay?” Goku asked and patted her arm. 

“Yeah, I’m not hurt.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Honestly seeing him without hands might have been more traumatic than the attempted rape.” She tried to chuckle, but it came out shaking. 

“That’s because you’re too kind. He didn’t deserve to be healed.” Goku sighed. “You were only here a day, before he started. We knew he got a little handsy with some of the castle staff… but this…” He shook his head. Eventually they ended up in the family lounge again.

 

She ended up sitting by the fire watching Goku wrestle with Fasha, Gohan, and sometimes Treble. It was like a weird sparing, but no one seemed to be getting hurt, and they were having fun and distracting themselves from the day's earlier horrible events.

It actually made her grow a little more fond of Goku. He had a way with them that she found charming. He never let them get the upper hand, but he also wasn’t using his full strength, as he was sufficiently taller, and longer limbed than all of them. Tarble was the first to stop, but he did so smiling as he went to sit next to his mother. Pretty soon, even Fasha was retiring to eat some of the cake set out with the tea and sit with her mom when she joined them. 

Finally, Goku had to tap out when Gohan pinned him and twisted his arm in what seemed to be a genuinely painful way- Bulma healed Goku as soon as he winced for real and Gohan let go when Goku called mercy and roared with laughter. 

“Good hold!” Goku praised, and flopped over to lay flat on his back, and catch his breath. Eventually, he climbed to his feet and grabbed a literal armload of the meat pies set out with the tea, and came to sit next to Bulma. 

She thought it was a little odd at first but then she remembered that they were basically engaged, and that he was trying to do what was expected of him by engaging her. The whole evening sitting her felt odd. Like they were all trying to pretend today hadn’t happened. 

“That looked like it hurt.” She said. 

“Yeah Gohan is getting really strong! He’s a fast learner! He’s good with books too, but that’s all his mom.” Goku settled in started eating pies in only two bites each.

“What was she like? His mom?” She was sure her question would hurt, if he loved her. But she needed to see what his reaction was to such things.

“Chichi was…. Amazing.” Goku smiled sadly at her memory. “She was strong, and smart and kinda bossy? But I loved it. She made sure Gohan got a good education.” 

“He’s still getting a good education, dear.” Gina corrected. Gohan nodded and smiled around his own mouthful of food. 

“We stay in school until 21, in my country but my father always said only a fool stops learning.” Bulma said, and took a deep breath. She forced her mouth into a smile while she tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat at the mention of her father.

“That’s smart. Gohan will be a much better leader than me, one day. He’s way smarter.” Bulma noticed how quickly Goku had steered the conversation away from his dead wife, so she didn’t push but listened while he prattled on proudly about his son. He made her happy, in a roundabout way. Gohan was a nice and smart boy, and if Goku was this good a father to Gohan, he would be a good father to the child they would one day have together too. 

She could be happy with him. She was sure of it. She had to be.

Vegeta came in the room then and looked around at his family, and Bulma. She noticed his sleeves were still rolled up to the elbow.  
“Vegeta, where have you been?” Gina asked.  
“Organizing the castle guard to best protect our new guest. I’ve had some of the higher ranked soldiers from the army fill in, while Nappa trains the new guards from the tournament.” His eyes flicked to Bulma. “And I hand the princess’s belongings moved. I think it would be best to have her stay in the west tower for now.” 

“Why?” King Vegeta asked. 

“If King Cold was trying to kill her, and he’s not above sending assassins, than the Pink room is a bit too obvious a place for her to stay.” 

“Mhm. Yes, I suppose that’s true.” King Vegeta agreed. 

“And, I was arranging Raditz’ departure.” Vegeta added, more quietly. Everyone was quiet. 

So he’d been working while they’d all sat around. That made Bulma’s stomach twist uncomfortably. 

“Oh! Well, you’re done now though? Come join us.” Gine patted the spot on the lounge next to her. Vegeta looked at Goku and gave a short, approving nod before joining his mother. Bulma wondered if Vegeta had asked Goku to spend more time with her, given their engagement. Vegeta sat next to his mother, crossed his arms and stared into the fire with an air of annoyance. 

Bulma didn’t have any siblings, so she didn’t know what it was like. She imagined how annoyed she’d be if she had to do everything herself while her siblings played around.  
“Thank you, Prince Vegeta. I’m sorry for the trouble my visit has caused you.”

“Blame the Cold family for the trouble.” He said, before picking up a meat pie and starting to eat.

These northerners sure could put it away. Bulma had never seen a group of people eat so much. Since there was no formal dinner that night, they were all eating here in the lounge in a very casual leisurely sort of way. No one in the family felt up too a formal meal, with Raditz leaving. They all seemed to be mourning the loss of him, or rather the him they’d thought he was. 

Bulma knew her guilt was misplaced, but she still felt it. She wanted to tell them it was fine and that Raditz should stay- but the thought of seeing him around, even if she had forgiven him made her skin crawl. She didn’t want to be around him ever again. Even in a crowded room. And he did deserve some sort of discipline. Not just for her, but for however many women he’d actually raped. Women who felt powerless to speak up.

As the night came to a close, Goku offered his arm to Bulma to escort her to her new room. She accepted, and walked with him contently, though she wished it had been Vegeta walking her to her room.

As they meander the halls, It seemed like Goku was trying to work up to saying something. Bulma was patient, and felt no need to rush him.

“Bulma, can I be honest with you about something?” Goku asked. “It’s not the kind of thing my parents would approve of me telling you, but it’s the truth and I feel like I need to be honest.” 

“Sure, Goku.” She nodded, and looked at him while they walked so he’d know she was listening. 

“I love Chichi. I miss her, and I don’t think I could ever love you as I loved her.” He said, rather quickly. 

“Goku, it’s an arranged marriage. I don’t expect you to love me, or to stop missing Chichi. She sounds like she was amazing. I wish I could have known her.” 

“You would have been friends.” Goku said with a relieved smile. “I just- I fell in love with Chichi and it was arranged, so…” He shrugged. “After everything that’s happened to you, I thought you deserved the truth.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “But Bulma, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you, and it doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to be a good husband. I like you a lot, actually! I think we’ll be good friends.”

“Goku.” Bulma took his hands in her own, and noted how unlike his brothers they were. He’d bitten the nail down to stumps, and while strong they lacked Vegeta’s grace. “I think the best thing most could hope for in such a marriage is friendship, and I think we’ve already got that. I care about you a lot. I’d even say I have a lot of affection for you. I think we can be very happy. Seeing you with Gohan…. Makes me think of how good a father you’ll be to our children one day.” 

“Oh yeah! We’re going to have to have kids I forgot!” He looked genuinely surprised by that knowledge, and looked up while he thought for a moment. “But, you’re real pretty so I don’t think it’ll be a problem on my end.” He mused, and that made Bulma laugh. Goku wasn’t a bad looking man, that was for sure. He had an openness, and a kindness to him that made his otherwise decent looking features down right handsome. 

“Thank you, Goku. Let’s not worry about that just yet though, hm?” 

“Oh! Right. I just- I kinda forgot about it, you know? I really only think of Chi-chi when I do think about sex. Man she was something else, that Chi- Oh! I shouldn’t be telling you this! Not yet, I’m sorry! Anyway- I’m glad we’re both being honest, and that you’re okay with me missing her.” 

“I could never ask you to forget her, Goku. I never will. I think, once things are settled a bit and we’re both back in the Isle of life- we should have a portrait of her made, and hung in the castle in a place of honor.” 

“Wouldn’t that be a little disrespectful to you?” Goku asked in amazement. 

“I don’t think so. Would that be the case in the North?” 

“Yeah… I mean, my father doesn’t have a portrait of Vegeta’s mother up anywhere in the castle, out of respect to my mother.” Goku mused. “I guess things are different in the south.” 

But Bulma’s jaw had dropped.  
“WHAT!?” She gasphed. “You mean- Gine isn’t- she isn’t Vegeta’s birth mother?!” Bulma whispered and looked around to make sure no one over heard. 

“Yeah, she died in childbirth, apparently. My father remarried shortly after, so Vegeta never knew her. My mother was the only mother ever knew, so she’s kind of our mother.” 

That shocked Bulma so much that she didn’t have anything else to say the whole rest of the way to the west tower. “So royals can marry widowers in the north. Than why did Gine think that they couldn’t in the Isle of Life?” She wondered. 

“We thought you guys had strict marriage laws down there.” Goku shrugged. “Up here we’re much less strict on little things like that.” 

“I guess that makes sense.” She mused. By now, they had reached the west tower and were climbing it’s steps. 

“Thank you for your honesty with me, Goku.” She said as they reached the top of the tower, and entered the room. 

“Oh woah, Vegeta must have redecorated in here!” Goku said in amazement. 

It wasn’t as elegant as the Pink Room, that was for sure. But The round stone room had clearly been made up. Every inch of the stone walls were covered in thick tapestry, and the floor was a patchwork of different, thick, plush fur rugs. There were two fire places, and both were blazing. It still wasn’t as warm as The Pink room had been, because it was so small, but it was still much warmer than the hall. 

“It doesn’t always look like this?” Bulma asked. 

“Uh-uh. I bet Vegeta noticed that you’re always cold and did this to warm it up. He’s real thoughtful. Wish I had thought of it, since I’m supposed to marry you.” He scratched the back of his head guiltily. 

“I’ll have to thank him in the morning. But for now, Thank you Goku for walking me here and for being so honest with me. Tomorrow I have something to tell you and your family in the interest of honesty. 

“What’s that?” 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, with the rest of the family. Goodnight, Goku.” Bulma got on her tiptoes, and pecked him on the cheek. He smiled widely at her in his usual open way and bid her goodnight. 

Unus closed the door behind him. Before she could say a word, Bulma hugged her.  
“I’m sorry for wandering off, and for leaving you. I shouldn’t have. It was stupid. You could have been hurt! I’m sorry. Unus. I’m sorry for everything.” She’d been waiting to say that all day, but they hadn’t been alone together since that morning, when she was still too mad to speak to her. 

“It’s okay, Bulla. I forgive you.” Unus hugged her back, the armor dugin to her a bit, but neither woman cared. “If I had been there, he never would have…” 

“You’re right. He wouldn’t have been able to order you away. It was stupid and impulsive of me to just… wander out there like that. Honestly, after seeing you drop Nappa like that I just… got a little… I just needed a bit of air.” She lied. She hadn’t found it sexy in the moment at all, but later she when she thought back to it… 

“You’ve always had a thing for strong people.” Unus smirked, and began undoing the straps on her breast plate. Bulma helped, and they barred the door to spend an evening together, huddled under the warm, thick covers. 

The stress of the day, the worry of tomorrow, and the knowledge that somewhere King Cold was likely torturing someone because of her, kept Bulma from being able to enjoy any pleasure. But she was happy to lose herself in the task of pleasuring Unus until the woman was panting and stifling her moan in a pillow so the guards outside their door wouldn’t hear her. 

Bulma slept fitfully that night. Unable to relax due to the stress of the day, and what the future promised. But she did at least manage to mend the divide with Unus. In the morning, she’d have to come clean to the King. But that was for tomorrow. For now, all she had to do was _sleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Green Dad doesn't fuck around. 
> 
> (Don't worry. Hair son will be back.)  
> I love Raditz. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading this fic guys, it means a lot to me! Please let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments. Your feedback really does help me improve as a writer!
> 
> <3


	8. For Hiromi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma finally gets a day of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in memory of Hiromi Tsuru.

The following morning, after breakfast Bulma asked the royal family to gather in the lounge again. Piccolo joined them, and when everyone was there, she came clean. She them the truth about her healing powers.

“So you lied to me?” The King said, after a painfully long pause. She started to answer, but Prince Vegeta stood up. 

“Father, she was protecting us. At the time she had no way of knowing it was King Cold who attacked them, or why. With Piccolo’s new information, she realized he must have known. She’s telling us now, as soon as she knew that keeping it from us wasn’t protecting us.” He stood beside her, and she felt better for having him there. 

“So it’s not any blessing from god.” The king said, anger clear in his tone. 

“Honey, maybe it is.” Gine said. “She knows all, and sees all. She must have known this would happen, and that’s why the Princess was blessed with this gift in the first place. It’s still a sign, I believe we should continue as planned.” 

“Of course we will! I just don’t like being lied too.” He crossed his arms, and threw an annoyed look at Bulma. She tried to apologize, but Prince Vegeta cut her off again. 

“It was to protect us. She had every reason to keep it to herself, and yet- she still healed all of us. Even Raditz, after what he did.” 

“She’s too kind for her own good.” Piccolo said, but there was a pride in his eyes when he looked at her that made Bulma’s chest swell. 

“There are worse things.” Goku chimed in, and even stood up to go stand by Vegeta. “A kind leader isn’t bad, so long as she’s also strong. She lost everything and she’s still fighting for her country so i’d say-” 

Bulma rolled her eyes and decided to go take a seat next to Gine since it seemed like no one wanted to hear what she had to say anyway. Not that she had anything left to say anyway, other than to apologize, but Vegeta seemed eager to make sure she didn’t do that. Maybe not apologizing was a show of strength, and confidence in her choice. 

“Fine. But now we need to think of what to do next. We know Cold wants her, and we know why. We need a plan.” The king said. 

“Take back the Isle of Life’s castle is the plan.” Piccolo said. “Until we know more though, there isn’t much to do. We’re still waiting on Krillin’s reply to see if he was able to take it back.” 

“Except wait and keep things secure here.” Prince Vegeta agreed. “In the meantime, we should double her personal guard. I’m assigning Nappa to her. He’s the best, and he seems to work well with Unus.” 

Bulma looked over her shoulder at her guard, and noted her flushed cheeks. Did Unus like Nappa? The way the woman was looking pointedly away from Bulma made her think as much. 

“It’s the only choice for now.” Bardock, the General added. “The Southern Border is secure, for now. If they see anything that looks like the Cold’s making a move, we’ll get a pigon.” 

“Good, thank you Bardock.” 

“Maybe the south could arrange to send more food to the border camp?” Piccolo suggested. “Bulma, you should write to the northernmost lord- which was it again?”

She started to answer, but Piccolo remembered and cut her off. 

“Oh right, Lord Brevis, your third cousin or something? Tell him to send more food to the Northern Board Camp.” Annoyed at being cut off so often, she crossed her arms and nodded. She’d need to get a detailed supply list from the different keeps and towns around the country before she told anyone to part with their food. Especially since she didn’t know if they’d be able to pay them for the good. Not if they didn’t get the Isle of Life back. 

“So the only thing to do now, is wait for replies from our allies?” King Vegeta asked.

“For now.” The Prince agreed. 

“Alright. In the meantime, we’re still in the celebration period of my beautiful wife’s recovery, so if you don’t mind…” He got to his feet, and suddenly scooped Gina into his arms. She laughed and swatted his shoulder, but didn’t ask him to stop as he carried her away, presumably off to spend the day in bed together. Bulma watched after them, smiling. At least someone was happy. 

After lunch was served, the princes gathered in the training hall to train. Bulma had never been in here before, but as soon as she walked in she loved it. It was so warm- it was almost too warm.  
“It’s a hot spring.” Vegeta explained when he saw her delighted expression. “Under the castle, it’s a natural hot spring that bubbles up right under the floor. It’s the steam that warms it so much.” Bulma nodded and shrugged out of her white fur cloak, and let a hand maid hang it up. Everyone else was shrugging out of their cloaks too. 

Plush sofas and lounges lined the walls, so Bulma sat next to Fasha while the younger woman got ready to join her brothers in the training. Vegeta and Goku were first up, being the eldest, and strongest. 

At some point, between when Bulma had walked away from Vegeta to take a seat, and when she looked back up, both men had taken their shirts off, and now stood in the middle of the room with only trousers on. It was such an odd sight for her- that she flushed and felt she should look away. Nappa and Unus sat down on either side of her, when Fasha eventually finished removed layers until she was in only a pair of cotton bloomers, and her undershirt and got up to train with Gohan, who was also shirtless. 

They started off with just fists, and Bulma found it very hard not to stare in amazement as the two powerhouses of men tried to get the upper hand. It was also kind of a treat to see them both shirtless. They were both far more muscled than she’d realized under all those layers and cloaks. 

Vegeta was shorter than Goku, but just as muscled so he looked thicker. His upper body was covered in shallow scars. With each punch, his bicep would flex and brace for impact. She’d never noticed before all the ways the body twisted and slide under the skin during combat, because she’d never seen two men fighting like this. 

It went on, and on but she loved every moment of it. They were so evenly matched that neither seemed to be getting hurt badly, and she got to sit and watch, and wonder what it would feel like to have Vegeta’s well muscled arms around her, or what it would feel like to run her hands across his broad chest. 

And they both moved so fast- and with such grace that it was almost like watching someone dance. She imagined Vegeta was a good dancer. Before she knew it, her mind was wandering, and she was deep in a fantasy that made her flush red. Luckily, it was so warm in here that she didn’t stand out. Everyone was flushed. 

She was enjoying the fight so much, she was actually disappointed when Vegeta twisted Goku’s arm behind his back and pinned him down. Goku shouted and slapped the floor hard, so Vegeta let go, and Bulma healed him.

When his soreness vanished, he looked over at Bulma, than to Unus. When he looked back at her, he smirked and raised a brow before nodding towards Goku. She realized with a start that she haddn’t healed Goku yet, and did so right away. 

Bulma looked over at Unus to see what Vegeta had somehow picked up from just her face. It took a moment, but she realized Unus wasn’t flushed like the Northerners were. Had Vegeta seen her face and realized that since Bulma was used to the same heat, it meant she was flushing at something else? Embarrassed, Bulma looked down at her hands and away from the rest of the training. She didn’t look up until a shout of pain grabbed her eyes. She just saw blood, and healed before she really registered what she was actually healing.

They’d switched to swords, and Goku had gotten a good hit in, cutting a huge gash on Vegeta’s arm. He must have hit a big vein, for it to bleed that much. She jumped up and ran over to better see Vegeta and make sure the healing had worked, but of course it had. 

“I’m okay.” Vegeta assured her as she frantically wiped blood away from his forearm to see the clean, healed skin. She sighed in relief, and let go of his arm, her hands covered in blood. 

They had to stop training now so the staff could clean the blood up off the floor. Bulma went back to her room to take a proper bath. Thankfully, the staff had started heating water by the fire in her room a little while ago so the bath was ready when she got there. She felt bad for them, having to lug all this hot water up the tower stairs. 

 

They left her alone for this bath, which was so odd after the way they fussed over her the first time, Unus asked what was different.  
“Prince Vegeta insisted we only help her bathe if she asked for help.” 

 

“Oh. He must have heard me complain to Nappa about it.” Unus said, and gave an approving little nod. “He really does seem to be looking out for you.” She mused. Bulma just smiled and enjoyed the feeling of being wrapped in warm water. The tub they used this time was copper, and they put it right by the fire, so Bulma was able to spend a solid hour in the bath, just enjoying the heat and comfort. 

It was the first time she’d felt this relaxed since they got to the north. While an evening bath was a bit odd, she enjoyed it all the same. She was still in a good mood when they went to dinner, despite not being able to get a word in around all the loud northerns, she didn’t have anything she wanted to say so badly. Not now. Not today. 

After dinner, Vegeta approached Bulma and offerdher his arm. Goku was walking Gohan out, hand on his shoulder. Curious about the change, Bulma raised a brow at Vegeta.

“Gohan got some bad news about a girl he likes.” He explained, and Bulma nodded in understanding. 

After watching the training earlier, it felt very scandalous to walk with her arm wrapped around Vegeta bicep like this, the thick muscle just beneath her fingertips. 

He’d definitely noticed her attraction to him earlier if his smug smirk was any indicator. It was a shame, because there was no chance for the two of them. Even if he did want her, it wasn’t possible unless she gave up on the Isle of Life, and that wasn’t going to happen. She’d be alone for the rest of her life before she’d abandon her home, and her people. 

“Do you like the west tower alright?” He asked as they walked. She nodded and smiled at him, too deep in her own head to really respond properly. 

“Good. The towns people keep sending us those pelts as gifts for you. There were more than enough to cover the floor, and more keep coming in.”

She nodded again, and squeezed his arm to let him know she was listening. When they got to the top of the tower, he lingered. “You’ve been awful quiet today. Is it because I cut you off this morning?” She shook her head and thought about it for a long moment. 

“You’re worried, about your people aren’t you?” He asked. 

She nodded.  
“I’d tell you not to worry, but that's useless. Just know that you, and everyone in the Isle of Life can count on the north’s support.” 

She smiled thankfully up at him.  
“We _are_ counting on you.” Than, she did something very ill advised, and she kissed him on the cheek before stepping into her room with Unus, and closing the door gently on his shocked, flushed face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R.I.P  
> Hiromi Tsuru 
> 
> You will be forever missed.
> 
> \---  
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	9. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin heating up between Bulma and Vegeta

With each passing day the lack of news began weighing Bulma down. She knew it would be at least a few days until anyone could reach them this far north, but it didn’t make the wait any easier. 

The longer she was there, the more the formality of the north annoyed her, and she said as much to Unus one evening as they crawl into bed.  
“Yeah, I mean formal meals for every meal? Since we’ve been here they’ve literally had one casual meal. Not to mention it’s all baked or put in a pie.” Unus sighed, and pulled the fluffy comforter up to her chin.  
“It’s too hard to get anything fresh up here, so everything has to be processed and cooked to within an inch of it’s life. They cook really well for what they have access too, I just miss fresh fruit and not being cold all the time.” Bulma shivered and snuggled up next to Unus’s side under the covers. 

“Me too. And my brother.” 

“I’m sure he’s okay. Piccolo said he got out.” 

“I know. I just- I miss him.” Bulma, being an only child had no idea what it was like to miss a sibling, so she just smuggled into Unus’ arms and held her while Unus recalled funny stories of their childhood until they both fell asleep.

The following morning after the usual long routine of getting dressed and having her waist cinched in by a too-tight bodice, Vegeta came to collect Bulma for breakfast.  
“Good Morning, Prince Vegeta. It’s good to see you.” She was more than a little grateful to it was him, and not Goku collecting her this morning. She liked Goku but she could have a real conversation with Vegeta. 

“Good morning, Princess. Did you sleep comfortably?” He extended his arm for her, as usual, she accepted and they started the long climb down the tower stairs. 

“Yes, of course thank you. Prince Vegeta, may I ask you something about Northern culture?” She asked as she lifted the front of her skirt out of the way to walk down the steps.

“Ofcourse.” 

“Is it customary for all Lady’s of the royal family to be escorted everywhere by a man, or is it just a courtesy for guests? I rather enjoy your company so I’m not complaining, but it seem very inconvenient for you when you’re so busy running the castle.” 

Vegeta gave a short laugh and shook his head, smirking in a smug sort of way.  
“Just guests.” 

“Is there anyway you can stop having to come collect me for every meal, if you don’t want too? Is the custom because guests don’t know their way around the castle? If so, with Nappa as my guard you and Goku can take a break.” 

“I could, but I don’t want too.” He took her eyes away from her feet and the stairs for a moment to look sideways at him. He was just looking a head, expression neutral. 

“Is there anything I can do to help with things around here, than?” She asked, genuinely wanting to do something useful while she sat around waiting for news. It seemed to her he was doing everything and he didn’t deserve to have all that stress by himself. 

“Mhm. I don’t think so. You’d have to know about the detailed inner workings of the castle in order to help in that way, and hopefully you won’t be here long enough to learn all that. Hopefully, you’ll be in the south being coronated before the month is out.” 

“I could learn. I’m more than just beautiful, you know.” He chuckled at that and shook his head. 

“It would be a waste of your time to learn so much about this castle when news is just days away, than I think we’ll both be very busy.” 

She squeezed his arm gently. “Thank you, for all your doing.” A large part of her wanted to rub the broad well muscled shoulders she knew sat under the fur collar of his cloak. At this point in the conversation, most hosts would make up some lie about it being no trouble at all, but not Vegeta. 

“Everyone is settling into the new routine just fine.” He assured her. “The new guards are a little power drunk at the moment, so don’t be too nice to them.” 

“Yeah, Princess. And don't heal them either.” Nappa said from behind her, startling her a little. She hadn’t noticed him join them when they got to the bottom of the tower. She was too distracted by Vegeta’s smirk and his bicep under her hand. 

“Oh, why not?” 

“A few aches and pains remind them that they’re mortal men. Keeps them grounded.” 

“Oh! Well, alright.” She agreed, deciding that she didn’t know enough about how guards were trained to have an option more valuable than Nappas.

“I think some of them could use it. Makes your stronger, faster. With the Princess healing me constantly I built muscle at a much faster rate than usual.” Unus pointed out. 

“Really? Huh.” Nappa said with genuine surprise. The two of them went back and forth for a few minutes about the pro’s and con’s of healing the new freshly trained guards of minor aches and pains. Bulma exchanged a look with Vegeta, and the two smiled. 

At breakfest proper, Bulma sat with Goku, who’s open smile was always a delight, even if his conversation was usually a little dull. Today, he was excitedly talking about getting fitted for armor later. Gohan was still too young to get a proper set of armor. He was still growing and they didn’t want to waste the resources to make him a full fitted set when he would only outgrow it in a few months. 

“The new style is so lightweight! It’ll be so easy to move in! I hear the whole set of full plate is only 15 pounds!”  
“Really? Wow!” Bulma was genuinely curious now, and listened to Goku while he told her all about how the Armour was made. “It was designed at first for high ladies to wear as a sort of bodice that protected their internal organs, you know? So it wouldn’t weigh too much, but then they got really good at it, you know? And now they make full plate with the same technique.” 

Bulma was scheduled to meet with the blacksmith that evening, before dinner and after most of the men in the royal family had gotten measured so she had the day to do mostly as she liked. Which was the worst. At home, if she was worried about something she had lessons, or work to do that kept her busy. Here all she could do was sit around and read a book, or take a walk through the castle, or go sit in the stables with Ember. 

_There isn’t much to do, as a guest is there? Not without formal events to make a show at.’_ Ember said as she joined him in the stables later that morning and climbed onto his back and basically laid down, feeling properly warm for the first time that day. 

“I just wish I had something. A problem to solve or something to work on.” She muttered. But she couldn’t think of any such problem she had any way of helping with. There was the problem of the Cold family, and the toxic gas that they would use to either kill or knock out the guards. 

That gas weighed heavily on her mind because it meant everyone in this castle was in danger because of her. Some younger, less mature wild part of her wanted to leave the castle to go lure king cold into some sort of trap, away from these people, where they wouldn’t be hurt when he came. 

But that plan was idiotic. She would need some support for it to work, any. At least ten excellent fighters, and someway to protect against the gas but-

 _No. Bulma._ Ember thought, firmly. _You’re not using yourself as bait._

But what way was there to defend against gas? She realized she knew surprisingly little about gas. Would a plague doctor's mask work? If it protected against smell, and disease would it protect against gas too? Well, probably not since the number of sick doctors suggested it didn’t even protect from plague very well. 

“Bulma.” A deep voice Jerked her out of her thoughts and she looked around to find Piccolo standing just inside the stable, arms crossed. 

“Hi.” She said, and sat up. “What’s up- is there news?” She looked him over and healed him, just in case. He looked a little greyish, and sort of deflated. 

“Not that i’ve received. Not yet. Ember, would you mind taking me for a flight above the clouds? I could use some sun.” 

“Yes, lord knows a leisurely flight would be nice.” 

“Are you doing alright, Piccolo?” Bulma slid of Embers back and stepped out of the way so Piccolo could climb on. 

“The north doesn’t agree with me, but some sun will do me good.” He reached over and pat Bulma on the head, like he used too when she was a kid. “I’ll live.” 

“Not if I drop you, but i don’t plan on dropping you so unless you kick me we should be fine.” Ember joked, and stepped out of the stable and into the courtyard. 

It was always a delight to watch him take off. His wingspan was so wide, and marvelous, bathed in flames that she almost forgot to worry about them. 

“Where are they going?” Vegeta asked as he approached the now empty stable, eyes following Ember’s progress across the sky and up. 

“Namekian’s need a lot of sunlight to be healthy, so they’re going above the clouds to get some.” 

“Can’t you just heal him?” Vegeta asked, with a raised brow. 

“Yes, I can and he’ll stay alive, but he won’t feel strong, or good. The sun gives them energy, like how food gives us energy. I can keep someone from starving to death, but they’ll still be hungry if they don’t eat, and i can’t heal away exhaustion.” 

“Hm. Good to know. I guess I feel less tired now because I'm actually sleeping through the night.” 

“Were you not before?” Bulma asked. 

“Not really. Back pain.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. 

What was with all these northern men and back troubles. She’d have to give them all a lecture about lifting with your legs before she left for the south. Bulma couldn’t imagine being in constant pain like that. The closest she could ever remember to being in real pain that wouldn’t stop was when she first arrived in the north in little more than a night dress. She’d always been able to heal any thing, anytime, no matter how small or mildly uncomfortable it was. 

“That must have been hard. I don’t know how you managed running this place on top of no sleep.” 

“I wasn’t really doing much in the way of running the castle when you got here. We were all pretty distracted by my mother’s illness.” He looked away from the sky, and Ember to smile at Bulma in a way that wasn’t at all smug. “I know you regret some of the wishes you made when you were eight, but I don’t.” 

She smiled back at him, because he was being emotionally honest, but now she was thinking about how stupid her wishes were. Of course he didn’t think they were a waste, her one good wish saved his mother’s life. He didn’t realize if she’d been smarter she could have avoided this entire war from happening. But than if she had no reason to come to the north… She decided to stop thinking about it. Vegeta had offered his arm to her, and had been waiting a moment while she smiled blankly. 

“Sorry, I was just thinking about the gas.” She lied. Well, she had been thinking about it earlier, but she didn’t want him to know how much her wishes troubled her. 

“The gas? The stuff King Cold used?” 

“Yeah. I’m trying to think of some sort of way to protect people from it. Like a plague doctor mask, or something.” 

“Really? Do you think those would work?” 

“Well, they don’t seem to work on plague, but there’s no way to test it without any of the gas anyway, so I’m going to have to do some reading and research on them.” She shrugged. “Were you just passing through the courtyard or were you looking for me?” 

“I was looking for you. I noticed you out the corridor window as I passed and I was wondering if you were planning on going anywhere, or if you were just trying to get warm?”

“Just trying to get warm.” She admitted. 

“I thought so. You know, you’re welcome to spend as much time as you like in the training room, where it’s warm.” 

“Would that really be alright?” She asked perking up significantly at the promise of heat. 

“Yes, of course. It might not always be quiet, if someone is training of course but-”

“Oh that’s wonderful! Thank you, so much! I’ll sit out of the way and keep to myself, I promise.” 

The next few hours found Bulma sitting in the training room, book on her lap as she read about the various ways in which plague doctor masks supposedly worked. She loved the training room so much that she came back the following morning. Nappa didn’t enjoy it as much as she and Unus did, so he sat outside the door, trusting Unus to have an eye inside, but since there was only the one door, it wasn’t as if they’d have to fight anyone who didn’t go through Nappa. 

Bulma had felt horribly guilty waking Unus up early to go sit in the training room with her, but she was so cold all the time anymore that every moment she spent outside of the warmth felt like actual pain. 

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind being warm either.” She grumbled tiredly as she pulled her armor on and let Bulma help her with the straps. 

This morning it was empty when the two got there. Seems most didn’t want to train or work out this early in the morning. Bulma would have to remember that it was usually empty around this time so she could have quite, warm, reading time. 

She hadn’t barely been there an hour when Prince Vegeta entered and looked around with a raised brow.  
“Good morning. I didn’t think you’d be up so early.” He undid the straps on his cloak and began removing it. 

“Good morning! I’m used to being the first one awake in my family too. Do you normally train at around this time?” She sat up properly and began putting the book she’d brought back into her back. She was going to go back to her tower. It seemed to her this was probably the only time in a day he could count on being a lone for a little while, and she didn’t want to intrude. 

Her bag packed, she stood up to leave when he removed his shirt, and her desire to be polite and leave vanished on the spot. 

“Yes. I like coming in here while it’s quiet. The rest of the day Goku and Gohan are usually in here making a racket. Is there a problem?” He asked, noting that she’d stood up.

“Oh! No, not at all! I just thought that since you get so little time to yourself I didn’t want to intrude. Alone time for people in our positions is such a rare thing, after all.” 

He considered her for a moment, and crossed his arms. “I get plenty of alone time, so as long as you’re quiet I won’t mind in the slightest.”

Thus far, he’d more than proven his willingness to be honest with her, so she decided to take him at his word and sat back down. Though, staying didn’t give her any more reading time, as she found it very hard to focus on the dull writings of a long dead man as he talked about the way charcoal absorbed moisture and cleaned air if filtered correctly. 

Vegeta was very distracting. He faced away from her during most of his work outs, so she couldn’t help but marvel at his strong looking back as the muscles flexed and slide under the skin while they worked. His broad shoulders and thick arms moved the heavy looking weights with such ease she even thought to look sideways at Unus, who gave an approving nod, clearly enjoying the display of his impressive physique as much as Bulma was. 

The time slipped by too quickly, and soon Unus was heading towards the door, saying her armour made it too hot for her to stay in here any longer.

So they were alone. Bulma almost forgot she was supposed to be reading about things that filtered and cleaned the air so she could protect her people. But when he held the weights out arms length on either side of him, the meat of his back straining to hold the weight. She felt flushed again, but didn’t look away since his back was too her.

Before too long she’d completely forgotten about charcoal and oak chips and was lost in a pleasant and unspeakable fantasy. She imagined him escorting her towards what she thought was a meal, but then he’d duck into a room somewhere, and pin her to the wall. His broad chest pinning her to the wall, his thick arms on either side of her, trapping her while he leaned towards her, his hand cupping the side of her face, so big the tips of his fingers pressed against the back of her neck while his other hand slide down her spine to rest on the small of her back and hold her more tightly against him...

“Princess?” She snapped out of her fantasy with a start only to find Vegeta had come over and crouched in front of her- all while she had been staring blankly at him. 

“Y-yes?” She looked down at her book and tried to sound like her mind hadn’t just been imagining what it felt like to have his hand on the small of her back. 

“You seem a bit dazed.” He noted, and wiped his sweaty face with a cloth, 

“Oh, sorry I was just- erm…” She looked down at her book for an excuse, but none came. She glanced back up at him tentatively and flushed at the sight of his pleased smirk.

“Reading?” He offered, and turned to go back to his work out without waiting for an answer. 

 

Later that day they were both fitted for armor, Vegeta for full plate, and Bulma a protective, and yet also decorative bodice. Yesterday's fittings had run too long, so they’d both volunteered to do it today. 

“Vegeta?” She asked, as they walked arm- in arm towards the sitting room set aside for the fitting.  
“Mhm?”  
“Why did you reschedule your fitting? You were supposed to go first yesterday, as eldest son. Why wait?” 

The corridor was filled with grey, cold light from the windows. The sun was out today for once, but even with the bright blue sky overhead, the light bounced off all the snow and looked grey inside. She wondered if Piccolo was outside, soaking up the sun. 

Vegeta didn’t answer for a time.  
“Goku is likely going to be the one heading into battle, so it seemed imperative he be fitted first, so he’ll get his armor sooner.” He said carefully. Bulma knew right away that was a lie, since the blacksmith wouldn’t necessarily make the armor in the same order in which he took the measurements. Vegeta had to be a high priority. 

_’He’s lying._ Ember said boredly, his deep voice echoing through her mind. 

_‘Do you plan on telling me the real reason than?’_ Bulma asked. 

_No, because it might not matter._

So she let it go, and just nodded. “I see. You sound a bit jealous, do you wish you could go fight on the battlefield?” She asked. 

“I miss it.” He said right away. “But now I’m too old, and too close to taking the throne to take such risks.” He said proudly. “I was good, though.” 

“You certainly seem fit enough for it.” Bulma said, and immediately regretted it. Behind her, Unus snorted to stifle a laugh. Vegeta smirked. 

At the fitting, Vegeta went first and Bulma watched as the blacksmith, a thick armed middle aged man with blue eyes measured him all over. He even measured the length of his fingers. 

“Alright my dear, it’s your turn.” The smith gestured to the raised platform. “Your majesty, I won’t keep your guest long.” The smith bowed to Vegeta, who promptly sat down in the same chair Bulma had just vacated. “Your majesty? It’s hardly proper for a man to stay and watch, I’m afraid the Princess will be in a state of undress…” 

Vegeta nodded to Nappa, who pulled a accordion shaped privacy screen across the room and set it between them.  
_‘Ember, can he see me through that?’_  
_‘Just your silhouette.’_ He said broadly. So Bulma slipped out of her bodice and dress as instructed and stood on the raised platform, naked from the waist up, with only her bloomers and long underwear to keep her bottom warm. Her chest however reacted to the cold, but she stood up straight anyway so the fitting would be correct. 

“Thank you, Princess. This won’t take long since we’re just making you a simple bodice. But I assure you, it will be very elegant, and very effective in protecting your heart and internal organs.” 

“Thank you.” She smiled kindly at him, but she still felt terribly uncomfortable being exposed like this. When she stood on the platform, she could see Vegeta’s face from over the top, and he could see her’s, but not one anothers bodies. When she looked at him, he was glaring at the screen.

The Smith started with her waist, than measured the distance from her hip to her armpit, and then across her shoulders, up her back. He was being so thorough and boring about it that she almost forgot she was topless until a cold hand cupped her breast to lift it up so he could measure from her hip to directly under her boob. She tensed now, and tried to look anywhere but at the Smith, or at Vegeta who was staring intently at her face now.

He then spent longer on her breasts then the whole rest of her upper body combined. Even going so far as to measure the distance from her nipple, to the breast bone.

“What are you doing?” Unus asked. Vegeta looked like he was ready to stand up. 

“Measuring, my lady why-”

“Do you plan on making the breast plate so it would cup both of her breasts?” 

“Yes, my lady that is the style.” Bulma looked at Vegeta, who’d relaxed when he realized Unus was just asking about the fashion. 

“That’s a terrible design, that will do her no good. Make it a unaboob breast plate.”

“My lady, I’m sure you’ve much experience wearing armor, but…”

“Do you know what’s under the breasts? That hard part between and under them? That’s the breast bone. If you make a breastplate that dips between the breasts than any hit to her upper body is going to funnel all that pressure straight to the breast bone- which will shatter, and puncture her lungs. I’ve seen it happen before, to dozens of young warriors who didn’t know better.” 

That gave the smith pause, he looked annoyed. 

“My lady…”

“She’d right. Make it a unuboob like she said.” Bulma ordered, her voice firm. Vegeta smirked proudly. 

“Yes, Princess if you think it’s best.” 

“Thank you, Smith.” She added, and watched while he continued measuring. The novelty wore off after a bit, and it grew too akweird to keep looking at him so she looked away, at anything but him, or Vegeta who seemed intent on catching her eye. Suddenly though, she felt a pinch at her nipple and looked down. He’d put the tape away, and was now he was just- with a stab of horror she realized that he was just groping her- both hands cupped either breast, and squeezed so hard it actually hurt. 

She made a soft sound of pain and leaned away from him. Out of her peripheral view, she saw Vegeta leap to his feet and start towards the screen, and Unus reaching for her blade. But the Smith’s sausage like fingers on her breasts just squeezed harder when she tried leaning back, muttering something about being nearly done. 

Before she could think things through, she curled her hand and punched the smith right between the eyes, as hard as she could. 

He fell back, looking stunned and hit the ground with a thud.  
“I SAID OW.” She yelled, anger flooding through her. She hadn’t been so mad since the encounter with Raditz in the woods. 

The smith groaned from his place on the floor.  
“Just who do you think you are!?” She demanded. And stepped off the platform to stand over him. 

It was at that moment that she noticed Vegeta had made it all the way around the platform to help just before she dropped the Smith. He now stood there, eyes wide and the corner of his mouth curved up ever so slightly as he looked at her. Bulma yelped, spun around and wrapped her arms around her chest. 

There was a shuffle sound, and when she looked over her shoulder she saw Vegeta had turned his back to her, and was now picking the smith up by the arm.

“Are you alright, princess?” 

“Yes, I’m fine.” She said right away. “Just embarrassed.” 

“The shame is on him, Princess. Not you. Pardon me.” When the Smith didn’t cooperate, Vegeta gave up and just dragged him out by the shirt collar. When he was facing her again, she thought she caught a glimpse of a bulge in his trousers- but she wasn’t sure, it was probably the fabric or  
_Ember is he…_

 _Yup. Don’t tell him I told you though I sort of promised I would give him privacy. Don’t worry it’s just a northern thing. They like women who can fight for themselves. This might be the first time I’ve ever heard more men with dirty thoughts about Unus than you.’_ he chuckled. 

After Bulma was dressed she went to find Vegeta. He was sitting in the throne room, while Nappa forced the Smith to kneel with a massive hand on the man’s shoulder. 

“Death, I think.” Vegeta said cooly, hardly glancing towards Bulma when she walked in. He was leaning on the arm of the throne, legs crossed lazily. “You assaulted a princess. There should be no excuse-”

 _‘Ember please come to the throne room’._ Bulma thought

 _‘Noooo you’re gonna yell at me. Well, there or here so I guess it doesn’t matter. I kinda wanna see you yell at Vegeta so….. okay. Coming.’_

“No.” Bulma said to Vegeta. “Not for that. I don’t think death is warranted, but perhaps banishment from the kingdom?” She suggested. 

“Banishment? After what he-”

“Yes.” Bulma said firmly, and clasped her hands together in front of her, to still them and calm her anger. “If it was good enough for Raditz, it will be for him too.” 

“Princess, I would suggest-”

“I will make the decision, as I am the one who was wronged.” 

“That’s- Fine. Nappa, have him thrown on the next ship to Namek and leave him on an island somewhere along the way.” Vegeta ordered, Nappa nodded, and dragged the stoney faced smith away from the pair of them. 

“I think you made a mistake.” Vegeta said as soon as the smith was out of earshot. Nappa dragged the smith past Ember, who looked very odd walking down the hall. The sight of him made vegeta frown curiously and look at Bulma. “What is this?” He asked. 

“A scolding.” 

“A- I’m sorry, a WHAT?” He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight, which was a mistake because now Bulma could see very clearly the reaction he’d had to seeing her drop the smith while topless.

“I am SICK of people making decisions about my safety and body autonomy without consulting me. Both of you KNEW that man was a known pervert, and yet rather than WARNING ME, you just decided to keep an eye on things. What did you think would happen if you warned me? I’d refuse to let him measure me?” 

Ember trot across the stone floor and stood next to Vegeta, head hanging. 

“I thought it would worry you, and he didn’t seem like he was going to actually DO anything. Not before the fitting, anyway.” Ember mumbled. 

“I didn’t think he’d dare to touch you while I was sitting right there.” 

“If either of you had even an ounce of respect for me you’d have warned me so I could make that call. ME. NOT YOU. You knew Raditz had a habit of assaulting women and you didn’t warn me, Vegeta. You THOUGHT he wouldn’t dare assault a princess well apparently you’re BOTH bad at guessing what someone is going to do. How DARE you keep this from me. How DARE you!” She shouted, so mad she was making guttural grunts of anger at the end of each sentence like she had when she was a teenager and no one could hear her. 

“I have tried desperately to be polite to you, and your family for being so gracious and- WHY ARE YOU GRINNING AT ME LIKE THAT!” She roared when he gave her that odd, proud smirk again, tho now he also looked excited.

It was almost the same expression he had after she’d fought off Raditz. The grin grew tight, but he clearly couldn’t force himself to stop.

“WHAT is that FACE!?” She put her hands on her hips. “WHAT!? YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!”

“No.” He shook his head, voice steady without a trace of laughter, despite his face. “No, I’m impressed. It’s about time you stood up for yourself.” Vegeta said, still smirking. 

“I’ve been a polite guest, and until now I haven’t felt as if- I have stood up for myself! I dropped your brother! I stand up for myself all the time but I do it with CLASS, and GRACE and a SHRED OF DIPLOMACY BECAUSE I AM A PRINCESS AND DAMMIT I ACT LIKE ONE! IT’S NOT MY FAULT THE ONLY THING YOU NORTHERN MEN RESPOND TO IS VIOLENCE!” She yelled, and stormed away to leave an ashamed looking Ember, and a still smirking Vegeta. 

Unus chased after her with a cautious look over her shoulder at the Prince and Ember, before running off after Bulma.

Vegeta watched her go, not following since he was waiting for the tension in his groin to ease. “I’m going to marry that woman.” He declared. Ember rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bulma slowly becoming the hot head we all know and love. <3
> 
> Hey guys! Short chapter today, but hopefully more to come this weekend!
> 
> Thanks as usual for reading, and please let me know what you think in the comments! All feedback is helpful! Even, and I might argue especially if you don't like something! Different perspectives really help me build a believable fluid feeling world!
> 
>  
> 
> \---
> 
> While I'm here, I'm on the lookout for an Editor, since my usual editor is very busy since she works retail and it's the Christmas season. The editor would read over the chapters before they were published and give corrections on spelling, grammar, sentence structure, and even plot points if something doesn't make sense!
> 
> The editor would get co-author credit on Archive, and FF.net and anywhere else i decide to post the fic!  
> If you're interested, please let me know in the comments! Either Way, Thanks for reading and I'll see you all next time! <3
> 
> \---The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	10. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get steamy between Vegeta and Bulma.

The news seemed to have gotten lost for how long it was taking to arrive. They haddn’t even gotten a letter by pigeon, which could only mean that whatever news they did have for her was so sensitive that it couldn’t be risked over pigeon. It had gotten so bad that Piccolo took off on Ember to go find out what was going on himself. Ember seemed thrilled to go, actually. He wanted to stretch his wings and fly and Piccolo wanted to talk to General Roshi and get a report, and tell him to send 100 ships north, and leave the rest to defend the Isle, than if he could, he was going to find out what was going on at the castle from Krillin. 

Bulma tried not to think about that while she lay stretched out and warm in bed, snuggled up with Unus. It was a few quiet moments of bliss with nothing but soft sheets and skin under her hands. Or it would have been if Bulma could think about anything other than the state of her people, and her country. 

“Bulla, I’ve been thinking…” Unus said, her fingers grazing Bulma’s hair gently in a way that made her melt a bit. 

“Mhm?”

“Well, It’s about… us, and northern culture. This has been really nice, but I think we should stop.” She said everything with one breathe, as if saying it quickly would help. 

“Why?” Bulma asked, careful to make her tone friendly as she looked up at the beautiful, strong blond. 

“It’s just… I want to keep going with you. This has been really fun, but… Things are different up here in the North. I was talking to Napa and… It seems like consorts aren’t just accepted up here. Down south it’s just common knowledge that royals in arranged marriages will have a consort, but…. It’s not the same here. I mentioned Lord Satan’s consort’s in passing and Napa sort of… Well he was stunned that we all just knew he had a few consorts outside his marriage.” She was shaking slightly under Bulma’s head on her shoulder.

“... I…. I hadn't thought of that. I just thought that because we were both women we had too keep it hidden… but…”

“Actually, I heard Lady Fasha had a lover who’s a woman. She’s not engaged, so it seems like no one cares who you sleep with so long as you’re not sworn to someone else.” Unus shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while I just… After everything that you’ve lost our relationship was one of the only things you had left and I didn’t want to take it from you.” tears welled up in the corner of Unus eyes, and she looked at anything but Bulma. 

So that was it? Bulma would lose her father, her home, and now her lover? Her chest felt twisted and the lump in her throat threatened to crawl it’s way up again. 

“If it’s seen as disrespectful to the Prince’s, and the King here… than we have too, I suppose.” She choked out, and sat up, pulling out of what would be her last embrace with Unus. 

That thought made her feel like she would break. She didn’t want to cry, not again. Not in front of Unus. She couldn’t look at her. If she saw her laying there, beautiful and strong with tears in her eyes she would crumble. So she slide out of bed and into the sharp biting embrace of the cold northern air, and got herself dressed while Unus did the same. Neither woman looked at one another. 

“When guards from the south arrive, would you be willing to excuse me from my position as your private guard?” Unus’ voice was so carefully steady. Bulma took a deep, shaking breath. 

“If that’s what you want.” 

“I think it would be easier. I’m sorry. I-” She took a deep breath, not unlike Bulma had. “I will miss you so m-much.” Then the only sound in the room was Unus’ soft, muffled sobs. The sound was more than Bulma could handle. She rushed around the bed and threw her arms around Usus. 

She wanted to say she loved her as pain filled her, something powerful to end their pain and keep them together, but if Unus was right, then she didn’t want to make parting harder than it already was. But there was no reason they couldn’t comfort one another. 

And so they did. Both holding onto one another while they let their sorrow out. They cried, and shook, and held one another until a knock on the door tore them apart for good. 

“Woah, are you okay?” Goku asked when Bulma answered the door. She’d been hoping for Vegeta, but that guilt stabbed her too. She shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of the eldest Saiyan son, when marrying him meant she’d lost her country. She should be putting more effort into spending time with Goku, and getting to know him. 

“Yes, Good morning Goku!” She tried to sound cheery, and it came across fake, she could hear it in her own voice.

“Your face is all blotchy? Were you cry’n? Did something else happen?” He bent at the waist to look at her face more closely. 

“Really, I just erm- I was reading about my father, and his life, and it sort of-”

“Oh! Oh.” Goku stood up straight and looked genuinely sad for her. “He deserved so much better. Come on, food won’t fix it but it won’t hurt either.” Goku promised. “So, you seemed like you weren’t eating much and Vegeta figured it was because our food is too rich for you, so he sent for some fresher produce for your and Piccolo’s meals, but i toldhim you were definatly eating because you’ve filled out a bit since you got here.”

Bulma decided to ignore the comment on how she’d filled out. She hadn’t noticed, and she didn’t really care. The wish she’d made as a child meant she would be beautiful no matter what.  
“He did? That’s such a useless waste of resources though! We’re at war! We shouldn’t be spending money on such foolish, frivolous- we can get by fine on northern food, it’s delicious. A bit more hearty than I’m used too, yes! But it’s nice to have something different.” She lied, but the anger was real. She couldn’t believe Vegeta of all people would be so frivolous! Goku looked surprised at her anger. 

“Woah, I mean-” 

“I’m so sorry, Goku. You’re all just trying to make me feel comfortable, thank you. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, but perhaps I could speak with him so he knows such things aren’t necessary for me?” Goku grinned widely. 

“So I guess I win this round, huh?” He asked. 

“What?” 

“He’s been being so nice to you and stuff lately it kinda felt like it was a contest? I know you wanna marry me cuz that means we saved your home, but it sort of felt like he was trying to win you over. He’s not usually so worried about guests needs. Last time we had a foreign guest and mother suggested we make them some food from their homeland he said that if they didn’t like northern food they could leave.” 

Bulma could hardly believe that Vegeta would ever say such things, about anyone let alone a guest of his family's, not after how much he’s been doing to make her comfortable since he got here.  
“Maybe it’s because he knows he needs me?” Bulma suggested. “I mean, If we win than I’ll be the Queen of his main food supplier, and if not than I’ll be his wife so…?” Goku shook his head. 

“No, the guest last time was from Namek, and they’re a big source of spices and food for us too, and he didn’t care than.” Goku rubbed the back of his neck, something Bulma noticed he did when he was worrying. 

Did that mean Vegeta was working under the table to sabotage the war? Was he hoping they would lose so Bulma would marry him? She thought about all the times he’d looked at her with clear desire. He’d been so aware of her needs, and her wants that she thought he must have been like this for all royal guests. 

“Well, he seems the intelligent sort who would cover all his bases. Maybe almost losing his mother changed him?” She suggested, though she didn’t believe it, she just wanted Goku to think she wasn’t suspicious of Vegeta like he seemed to be. 

At breakfast, Goku sat Bulma to his left, rather than his right like he usually did, putting her a little farther from Vegeta. She noticed, and didn’t say anything. 

_Ember, is Vegeta trying too-_ She thought- but stopped when she remembered that he’d left with Piccolo to go get news. 

The meal went by as it usually did, Goku talking about fighting, and Bulma listening and trying to find it interesting, but she couldn’t focus too much. The worry about Vegeta betraying her, and the loss of her relationship with Unus clouded her mind and numbed her emotionally. 

The meal was over before she knew it. Before she was ready to try and engage, Goku was leading her away from the table and towards the training room. She lingered rather than following because she wanted to talk to Vegeta about the foolish food order he’d sent out. She found his eyes through the people shuffling away from the table, and he started towards her but Goku pulled lightly on her arm. Vegeta closed the gap between them.

“Good morning, Princess.” Vegeta greeted politely. “I would like to apologize for the other night. You’re quite right.” 

“O-oh. Thank you.” She was so surprised by his apology that she forgot what she’d wanted to say for a moment. “Oh, right Vegeta Goku told me you ordered some fresh produce for me?” 

“I did. I thought you could do with something more like the food you’re used too.”

“That seems an awful waste of resources, given the current situation. I thank you for trying to make me more comfortable, but the expense of such a frivolous luxury at a time like this...” She trailed off when Vegeta laughed.

“It’s not actually a order for food, Princess. It’s the group you requested to gather information, cleverly disguised.” 

“Oh! Well, that’s lovely than. Thank you.” Her anger dissipated a bit, and she curtsied. Goku seemed like he wanted to go, so she big Vegeta goodbye and let Goku lead her away, leaving a smug looking Vegeta in the dining hall. 

What was he playing at? Was he trying to sneak information to the Berserkers? Didn’t he appshiate what would happen if they failed? The other day he’d said he would be the best king ever, in the history of their country. So how on earth did he plan on doing that by losing the war? 

Maybe he was deliberately sabotaging it so that he could save the day after he became king and would get the credit. Than, he’d have Bulma as his wife and be the king that saved the Isle. But, what would come if The Isle if he’d already married Bulma? It would just become part of the north? 

She worried about this all afternoon while Goku trained with Gohan. She settled into the training room to watch them train. To be properly comfortable, she shed her long underwear and bloomers so she was naked except for her shoes under the skirt. She did all this in the little changing room just off the side. It was far too warm in here for so many layers. 

She noted Goku was just as muscled as Vegeta was, but he was also much taller and lankier. Yet, something about his movements and the way he carried himself didn’t get Bulma as flustered as she had with Vegeta. Sure, there's no arguing that Goku was handsome, and had an impressive physique. His movements were certainly more graceful than Vegetas. It seemed his way of fighting was to keep light on his toes. Bulma decided to keep reading.

As it happened this book might have been thing thing she was looking for. It spoke at length about how moles that lived in places where there had recently been a fire, burrowed under ground when they smelt something poisonous in the air, like gas or sulfur. But why places where there was recently a fire? Why… She tried to remember what she’d recently read about something to do with fire… was it… The charcoal! 

Charcoal is a purifier! The moles were going under ground because the charcoal was filtering the air! 

She sat up and looked through her bag franticly to see if she still had the same book from the other day with her. She didn’t, but that was okay. She knew where it would be.

“Goku, I’ve had a breakthrough! I need to go get a book!” She gathered her things, and took off leaving a confused Goku to watch her go, and end up getting punched in the face by an enterprising Gohan who took advantage of the moment. 

When she found the book she discovered it WAS charcoal that had been mentioned. So, if she could create some sort of device that held a thick layer of charcoal, with some wet cotton on top, than would she have created an adequate gas mask? She’d need to test it, but to do that she would need-

“Are you alright?” Vegeta asked, causing Bulma to jump and look up from her book.

“Oh! Vegeta!” Delight ran through her at the sight of him. He’d be able to get her the supplies she would need too…. But than she ran cold. If he was working against her, than she wouldn’t be able to trust him. Not really. She couldn’t let him know what she’d found out. 

“Yes?” He raised a brow. 

“I- Yes! I’m alright! I was just reading. Why?” She put a scrap of paper between the pages and closed the book. 

“I saw you sprint through the castle. Usually sprinting doesn’t suggest something good has happened.” 

“I had to to use the ladies room.” She lied

He nodded, but she got the impression he could tell she was lying. There wasn’t a ladies room near here, for one. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. Neither said anything for a moment that felt as if it were stretched out to within an inch of it’s life.

“Would you join me for a walk?” He finally asked. 

“A walk?” 

“Yes, there’s something I think you would enjoy.” 

“Oh, sure.” Bulma didn’t want him to know she was suspicious of him, so she left her books where they lay and followed him out of the lounge, and even took his offered arm. Despite her suspicion, she enjoyed walking with her arms wrapped around his thick bicep, which felt hard under her hand, even through the soft, thick fabric of his shirt. She noticed the vein on his neck was bulging, and his jaw looked tight like it did during his workouts. 

“You can stop flexing, you know. I’m still going to be impressed by your muscles.” She said coyly. Vegeta gaped at her, his cheeks a little red. Behind them, Unus and Nappa snorted with poorly contained laughter. 

“I- I was not-” His argued. 

“It’s okay.” Bulma hugged his arm and kissed him on the cheek. He looked positively abashed as he begrudgingly let it go and kept leading her through the castle. He took her down long sloped corridors. She was beginning to wonder if he’d noticed her suspicion of him, and was leading her to the dungeons to trap her- but that was ridiculous. If she vanished he’d have a lot of explaining to do, and neither he nor Nappa stood much of a chance with Unus fighting, and her healing. 

“What are you showing me, Vegeta?” She asked, the cold getting more biting the further down the went. She wished she’d put her long underwear and bloomers back on before coming down here. But she’d had no warning. The halls were well lit, despite how damp it felt. Clearly this was someplace the royal family visited often. 

“It’s a bit of a surprise. It’s something my family and I use. We don’t normally share it with guests.” 

“Oh! That’s very generous.” 

“You don’t know what it is yet.” He teased. The flush had faded a bit from his cheeks, but his bicep still felt very hard under her hand. 

Some time later, they finally paused in front of a large wooden door.  
“This is it.” He announced as he pulled his arm from her hand gently to grip the door handle, and pull it open dramatically. 

A wall of warmth hit her- a welcome relief to the constant cold. Steam filled the doorway so completely she could hardly see what was inside, until she stepped past the threshold. What she found made her heart leap for joy. 

It was like a huge bath, filled with steaming hot water.  
“It’s warmed by a natural hot spring.” Vegeta explained as he stepped inside and stood next to Bulma. She looked over her shoulder and saw Nappa had stayed outside, and that he’d even held out his arm to stop Unus from following.

“The actual hot spring is right through there.” Vegeta said, and pointed to a wall that seemed to be natural rock, like this room was carved straight out of the earth. There was a little hole chiseled in the side, out of which was a steady pour of water that, judging from the amount of steam coming out was very, very hot. 

“The cold water comes from here-” He pointed to a pipe pouring into the the tub from the opposite wall. “It’s from a stream outside, it’s very cold, so the piping was built to pour out right next to the hot water so the bath is always warm. We can’t really control how hot the water from the spring gets, so when you use it don’t sit too close to the outflow there. The water than leaks out through there.” He pointed to the other side of the tub. “There’s a small hole in the base, so the water is always clean and flowing, and warm. You’re welcome to come down here and use it to wash up anytime you like. Most of the people in my family use it in the mornings, which is why I use that time to train.”

“Really? You- You don’t mind?” Bulma walked around the tub to examine it eagerly. The tub was clearly man made with smooth stone, shallow at the end where the water was pouring in and deep on the other side. It looked so clear, and clean even though the steam, which was getting a little thicker. Nappa had closed the door at some point, apparently. 

“Yes, anytime- though I think you’d prefer not to use it around my father?” He suggested, smirking in a way that suggested he thought he’d embarrassed her. If he really was planning on sabotaging the war, just to marry her than she wanted him to think she was unaware. In order to find out without ember, she’d have to be clever. 

She kept her back to him while she wandered around the tub and quickly untied the lace around her bodice until it hung loosely from her shoulders. Thankfully, most of these northern dresses were all huge and only looked fitted because of the cinched bodice. As she got farther away from him, it became impossible to see him through the thick steam. She slipped quietly out of her dress, and shoes in one fluid motion and began walking towards Vegeta.

“True, there’s only one Vegeta I want seeing me naked, and it isn’t him.” She said just as she stepped out of the thickest part of the steam and into Vegeta’s view.

Shocked, Vegeta just stood there. Arms crossed as usual as stared at her, jaw slack, brows furrowed, and eyes bulging out of his head. He didn’t say anything, just stood there. Bulma had a lot of options now, but she dare not go too far into the grey area of northern morality. She remembered what Unus had said that morning about northern culture. 

The only part of Vegeta that was moving were his eyes, darting all over her body from her feet to her head and all over everything in between as she walked over to him, with a little sway in her hips, her bare fleet slapping against the smooth stone. 

“Would you care to join me?” 

“Woman, if you take one more step I’m going to do _a lot_ more than join you for a bath" He growled. His voice was so different than it usually was. The polite pretences were gone, and he was doing nothing to hide his desire. 

Each breath he exhaled sounded almost like a growl as he uncrossed his arms, his eyes roaming over her naked body. His mouth curved into a smug smirk before locking eyes with her and raising one brow.

She didn’t break eye contact as she took one more step towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ¯\\_(¬‿¬ )_/¯](http://neala-ernswa.tumblr.com/post/168178156497/out-of-the-steam)
> 
>  
> 
> \----  
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	11. Out of the Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma takes that fateful step, and Vegeta proves his warning wasn't empty.

Vegeta

The steam billowed around Bulma, it’s tendrils wistfully slipping off her body as she approached him, her wide hips swaying with each step while her voluminous breasts swayed slightly. As her weight shifted from leg to leg with each step it made the sharp curve of her hips more mesmerizing. 

“Woman, if you take one more step I’m going to do a lot more than join you for a bath.” He warned, dark eyes drinking in every inch of soft looking flawless flesh he could see, before locking eyes with her and hardening his gaze so she would understand that he wasn’t joking. 

She met his gaze, somehow with more confidence than she usually did, and took one deliberate step towards him.

The sound of her bare foot hitting the stone released him from where he’d stood rooted in place, trapped there by honor. He rushed forward, knocking the front of his cloak out of the way as he go. Her eyes widened at the speed and suddenness of his approach.

He wanted to feel every inch of her, so when he got to her, he bent a little and hooked his arms under her butt, lifted her from the floor and held her against him roughly. Her hands slide around his shoulders, her breast pressed against his face as her weight shifted forward. Gods she was soft, and so _warm_.

He carried her straight to the nearest wall, and pinned her there with his hips so he could free his hands to explore. She wasn’t going anywhere now. He started with at her thighs, and roamed up, over the wide curve of her hip and into the narrow valley of her waist. He wanted to touch every inch of her, to be inside her and feel her wrapped around him- but that would come. 

She wrapped her long curvy legs around his hips and slid her fingers up his neck and into his hairline, her nails grazing his scalp gently and sending delightful shivers down his back. He groaned and leaned forward onto her breast while he dragged his hands roughly up her sides, hooking his thumb under her breasts before cupping them, and squeezing roughly. Her breathy moan egged him on. His mouth found her soft skin, and he kissed his way down until his tongue was lapping over the soft nipple, making Bulma’s moan sweetly above him.

She was wriggling desperately under his mouth and hands, of course she was. She’d seen him work out, of course she wanted him. He’d yet to meet a single woman who didn’t, but this was a little different. Every man wanted her, and she could have any of them. Even the taller, stronger, Goku. Vegeta pushed that thought from his mind. She was here with him. Not his idiot brother. She’d striped and presented herself to _him_ on a whim, not Goku.

She knew what she wanted. She was no fool. So he’d give it to her, little bit by little bit. Pride filled his chest as he moved his mouth up to kiss and lick along her neck. She smelt of the mint soap he’d had sent to her. It suited her body’s naturally sweet smell.

He let his mouth wonder back down to her breasts, to close over and suck on her other, soft nipple until it grew hard under his tongue. Bulma gasped breathlessly and curled her fingers in his hair. He let go of her now red nipple and looked over her breasts, full and pear shaped as they hung unsupported. 

He gripped her cushy bosom and looked up at her face to watch her reaction and see if she liked it a little rough as he started squeezing gradually. Her head fell back, the muscles of her neck straining as she moaned. 

“You like that?” He growled. She nodded and made a wordless sound of approval. He rolled her breasts under his hands, pushed them against one another and pulled them apart until he got an idea. Her breasts were large enough that when he pushed them together her nipples touched. With a smirk, he dipped his head and pulled both nipples into his mouth at once, and sucked. At her startled, unhindered moan he circled them with his tongue, making a figure eight around each pert nipple between sucking and nippleing until Bulma was wriggling helplessly under his mouth. 

“Vulgar woman.” He grumbled smugly. Bulma flushed and looked down at him with half lidded eyes and parted lips as she tried to catch her breathe and- oh yes. Her lips. He’d nearly forgotten, he was about to pull her down into a kiss but before he could move his hands from her chest she cupped his face in her hands, and ducked to press her full soft mouth against his sweetly. 

This was bliss. He decided that he could do anything if it meant at the end of the day he got to do this. He’d had sex before, but never had he felt so wanted by someone. Every time he touched her she would make some sound of pleasure. Just sliding his hands up her back and holding her flush against him got him a delighted sigh as she rest her elbows on his shoulders and cradled his head against her chest. 

She kissed his temple and pulled her fingers through his hair as he pulled away from the wall. She gripped his hips with her legs as he turned and crouched to the ground and leaned foreword to drop Bulma onto her back, find her hands and pin them at her side while his mouth went back to working over her neck. 

She whimpered, this sound not at all pleased so he paused to look up at her. She pulled against his hands, so he let go and as soon as he did she reached up and began untying his cloak. Of course, she wanted to see him naked. He smirked and obliged by just pulling his cloak off over his head. 

As he struggled with his shirt and the layers under, he wondered how Bulma had done it so quickly. Was she planning this? It wouldn’t surprise him. Women were all fairly sneaky when they wanted something. A soon as his upper body was free from clothes he went right back to gliding his hands along Bulma’s body. He followed his hands progress with his eyes, enjoying the contrast between his thick masculine hands and her soft pale curves. 

She started touching him too. Her fingertips lightly tracing over the splattering of shallow scars peppered across his chest. Her blue eyes flickered over all the scars, and looked up at him curiously. She’d seen him shirtless before, but never up this close.  
“Most of them are just from training with Goku.” he answered her unanswered question, and hooked his arm under the small of her back to pull her flush against him. He wanted to feel as much of her flesh against his as he could. 

“Is this… really okay? I know northern culture is different, but…”

“We’re engaged.” He said as if it were a stupid question. “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“In the south we don’t have sex until marriage. Or at least, we’re not supposed too.” He rolled his eyes at that and went back to sliding his hands over her soft curves, pausing to cup her round pert butt. He wanted to see her butt, he realized. He hadn’t seen it yet. He leaned back and grabbed her right ankle and pulled it over his head, so she’d be flipped over. 

“Oh!” She gasped, as she was suddenly flipped. 

“Mmm.” He groaned at the sight of her back. Her wide hips, full butt and the way her waist curved in sharply. She’d filled out since she’d gotten here, she even had little love handles that just made the curve to her waist look more profound. He didn’t know what it was about that curve. Maybe it was just how completely feminine it was.

He kissed the small of her back, hands holding her hips firmly. Bulma was still under his touch, allowing him to kiss up her back while he cupped and squeezed her butt. She seemed content to arch into his touch and reward his ministrations with gentle sounds of pleasure that were quiet moans. 

Her back looked so narrow when he slide his hands up, over her shoulder blades to her shoulders. She looked very fragile, yet he’d seen how strong she could be. His hands slide down her back again, while he kissed down her back, the skin so soft and warm under his touch that he dread the thought of letting go. 

As his lips went from the small of her back to graze over one round cheek, she giggled, drawing his attention up, to her face. She twisted enough to look back at him.  
“Ticklish?” He asked, frowning. He didn’t know anyone who had a ticklish butt. 

She shook her head.  
“No, I just think it’s funny to see the strong and proud Prince Vegeta kissing ass.” She bit her lip to keep from outright laughing.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m going to kiss a lot more than your ass, woman.” He gave her hips a firm tug to flip her over onto her back again and knelt between her legs again. 

“When do I get to touch you?” She pushed away from the stone to sit up, her elegant hands finding his chest and sliding up and around his neck into his hair again. God’s that felt good. She could touch his hair anytime and he’d happily lay there and let her. 

She kept at it for a bit, and he grew sleepy. So sleepy that he realized if he wanted to keep going he’d have to stop her, so he pulled her hands gently from his scalp by her wrists.  
“I’m not done yet.” He said firmly. “Are you?” 

She shook her head. 

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, soft and full like the rest of her. He kissed her. Gods her kiss was perfect. The way it was soft, and tender yet needy. Not too wet, either. He hated kisses that were too wet. 

“I wish it was you.” She breathed. “That I marry.” She said between gasps for breathe. He pulled away and searched her face.

“You don’t like Goku?”

“I like him very much. I just like you more.” She whispered. “I can talk to you. You understand better than he ever could what it’s like to be the heir. The stress, the power, the privileges, the limitations.” She nuzzled her cheek into his hand and turned her face into it to kiss his palm. 

“I intend to marry you.” He confessed, foolishly. “You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours.” He pulled her closer, again wanting to feel her body pressed against his, and her lips on his. She closed her eyes at his confession, and wriggled closer to him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck and wrapping her arms around his middle. He hugged her close, and felt her shaking against him. 

“Bulma?” He asked, and tried to pull her away enough to see her face.  
“Please, just hold me for now?” She asked. “I feel safe when you hold me.” She whispered. So he held her close, and squeezed her. His shoulder felt wet. 

“Why are you crying?” He asked. 

“I just.. I’m happy.” She choked. “And I feel guilty, for Goku.” She admitted, and pulled away to wipe away her tears. She was beautiful, even crying. But that was the magic from the wish she’d made. Nobody, not even women as beautiful as his mother or sister were still pretty when they cried. He wondered how much of her beauty was magical, and how much was genuinely hers. He supposed it didn’t matter, really. 

“Did you want to keep going?” He asked. “I haven’t even gotten to taste you properly.” 

“I think i’m too emotional to enjoy it. And i- wait what?” She started, blinking in surprise. He smirked.  
“Do they not do that, in the south?”

“Do-you mean…?” She placed her hand flat on her chest and glanced down at her own groin. 

“Yes of course. Do men in the south really not use their mouths to pleasure their women?” He asked, half smiling half horrified. 

“Men? No, I’ve never been with a man who’s done that.” She flushed pink, eyes wide. 

“Who else would be licking a womans…” His mouth formed an O when he realized. He’d forgotten how common same gender sex was in the south. “Have you been with many women?” 

Panic flashed across Bulma’s face, and was replaced almost at once by a careful mask. He’d always suspected that she could act well enough to hide her real emotions, but this was the first time he’d actually seen the change.  
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t do that much in the North-”

“We’re starting too.” He muttered, annoyed. “But It’s fine, if it’s women. Fasha has a lover who’s a woman. It’s just the men that creep me out.” He shook his head to dispel the thought. 

“Really? What, are you afraid a man will treat you like how most men treat women?” Bulma asked, knowing smirk on her lips. 

Was that really it? Vegeta felt his whole world crash for a moment. Every time the unwanted image of a man hitting on him crept into his mind like a snake it was some huge man, like nappa pinning him to a wall. It wasn’t unlike what he’d done to Bulma just now- but she had been moaning, and and actively stepping towards him, even after his warning. She’d wanted him to touch her.

Every move she made screamed non verbal consent. She seemed to see his fear because she kissed him chastely, pulling him from his thoughts. “If a man treated you as wonderfully as you treat me, would that be so bad?” She asked. That made his skin crawl, but at least she’d said he treated her wonderfully. He didn’t want to think on it any longer, so he shrugged. 

“You’ve been with women before?” 

“Sure. It’s… Well, I have a sex drive, just like you, or anyone. And sex with a woman is safer. Having a child before marriage in the south is a huge taboo, and I can’t get pregnant from a woman.” She shrugged. “And… women are soft, and warm and it’s nice to rest your head on a soft breast.” He grinned.

“You’re right, it is.” He crawled forward and wrapped his arms around her middle to rest his brow on her breast. She chuckled, and began running her hands through his hair. 

“So I guess we have more in common than just our upbringing.” She mused. He wondered what it would be like to have a wife who could look at a beautiful woman with as much appreciation as him, and not feel jealous. That seemed wonderful, really. Maybe they could even try sex with another woman. The idea of two lovely women kissing him and touching him at once certainly was pleasant.

“If men here do what you say though, then it’s no wonder it’s not as common.” Bulma mused. He looked up at her, pride flowing through him. “You sure you’re done? I’d be happy to show you the talents of the north.” 

“If we wait, i’ll just enjoy it more later.” She kissed his temple, and drew her hand through his hair, while her other ghosted lightly over his bicep \\. Before he knew it, he was drifting off to sleep in her arms. 

 

Bulma

Bulma walked as quickly as she could away from the wonderful hot spring she’d not even gotten into yet. Vegeta still sleeping on the stone. He was easy to knock out. Pain stabbed through her chest and she nearly choked on the lump in her throat, but she couldn’t break down yet. Not in front of Nappa. When she got to her tower, she actually ran up the steps and all the way to the top room, closing the door as soon as Unus was through, before the sob ripped out of her throat. 

“What?” Unus asked, clearly annoyed. 

“He is working against me. He’s… He admitted that he intends to marry me.” Unus’s gaped at her.  
“He did? What did you have to do to get him to admit that?!”  
“I just got naked and let him touch me for a bit, and told him i wished i was marrying him, not Goku.” Bulma shrugged. “I got naked and stroked his pride, basicly.”

“And he- wow. Did he say what he was doing to sabotage the war?” 

“No. but he must be. How else would he get what he wants?” His comment from earlier swam to the forefront of her mind. 

“He said he was going to be the best king ever. Somehow. He’d be remembered forever as a hero. Maybe he plans on sabotaging the war for now, so that we lose and he’ll get to marry me. Than when he’s king he’ll somehow undo his sabotage and win back the south, but with me as his wife, I couldn’t take the throne of the South- so it would have to be absolved into the north. He would be king of both countries, and…” The thought gave her chills. “Have power over almost the entire continent.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, and put her hand on her chest. Her heart raced, and for some reason she felt so betrayed. 

He’d never promised to protect her or anything. She’d only really known him for a few days at most and yet- she felt more like she’d lost him now than she had when she thought she was going to marry Goku. The person she thought he was, was gone. 

“We need to find out how he’s doing it. Is he disrupting mail or something? Is that why it’s been so quiet?” 

“Maybe?” Unus shrugged. “We have no way of finding out here. These people, they’re his. They’ll follow him before they’ll follow you.” 

“I know, but maybe i can win them over?” She wondored. “Maybe I can-” But the lump in her throat swol and she felt like she was going to choke on it. She didn’t want to cry anymore, but she couldn’t help it. 

So she cried, and Unus waited near by. On top of it all, now she was without even her strongest ally. She’d have to get more information before she acted, but one wild part of her wanted to flee. To leave the north forever. To run, as far as she could away from it, but she needed the north and it’s resources. 

First thing was first. How did she get information? Maybe she could seduce it out of Vegeta? Maybe she could sleep with him, than ask his plan out-right? But that was useless. If he was planning some sort of sabotage, than he wouldn’t tell her the plan. Not really. But maybe if she could convince him she really wanted him- and that she would help, then maybe he would? 

Was he so foolish? He’d told her right there in the hot spring room that he intended to marry her. Would it be so unusual to ask how? Goku genuinely seemed to be on her side, so maybe she could ask him? He would probably try to help, but could he really be trusted to help subtly? How good could someone as open as goku be good at something like spying? And would he be willing to deliberately work against his brother? What had she done to make goku want to help her over his own family? Save his family, she supposed. His mother, but that logic didn’t track. 

Bulma honestly didn’t know what to do. Her mind raced so much that each thought was a blur before moving on to the next problem. 

What could she do, right now? She could work on her relationship with Goku, and with the guards and the people of this castle. She could make them loyal to her, by healing them and by being kind. Vegeta was a good leader, though. And a good prince. They probably loved him. She’d have to make sure she looked supportive of him. Okay. Go see Goku. Observe him, and be kind. That’s what she could do right now.

When her face was dry, she went to find the 2nd son. He was training, but that was good, because it was warm. It was hard to bond with him like this though. They weren’t talking, or getting to know one another, just sitting in the same room. It was a start, but that’s all it was. 

She wasn’t expecting Vegeta to walk in and come straight over to her, without even the pretence of training. She smiled in greeting, and even stood up to greet him properly - but much to her surprise he didn’t say a word as he approached. He just bent at the waist and scooped her up, and over his shoulder in one fluid motion.

“Oh!” Bulma cried as his shoulder dug into her stomach. “P-Prince Vegeta!” She gasped, and tried to grip his shoulders for support as he turned, and marched out of the training room. She slapped his back to try and make him stop, but it had little effect. He just chuckled, and kept going. 

Unus followed, confused. She placed a hand on her blade and looked at Bulma to see if she wanted her to use it to make him stop- but cutting down the prince would only cause more trouble for them, so she shook her head, and jerked forward in surprise when she felt his hand slide up her leg, under her dress, to cup her upper thigh just below her butt and hold her in place. 

“Vegeta!” She said firmly. “What on earth are you- Oh!” She flushed, and covered her mouth with her hands. He’d slipped a finger between her legs to push between her folds. Was he intending to finish what they’d started? She was so embarrassed that he was doing this in the main corridor- but there wasn’t anyone else around. They didn’t pass a single person the whole way through the castle before finally coming to a stop in what had to be his chambers- where he pulled her off his shoulder and dropped her right onto his bed.

“Vegeta!” She cried, and scurried onto her hands and knees while he dropped his cloak.  
“You shouldn’t just leave a man asleep on the stone floor like that, Bulma.” He scolded gently, smirk in place.  
“How _dare_ you! You have no right to just pick me up and-” Vegeta’s face went from smug and aroused to confused in a flash. 

“You- Earlier you seemed to like it when I picked you up, and you didn’t didn’t ask me to put you down, or I would have.” He frowned at her and lingered by his cloak on the floor. “Did i misread your body language, when I approached?” 

Bulma had to think back. She had smiled and stood up to greet him. Had she looked as flushed as she’d felt at the sight of him? And she haddn’t asked him to put her down, that was true. She touched her mouth absentmindedly while she thought over the whole thing. 

“I even arranged to have the halls cleared.” He said, a little defensively. 

“You did…” She agreed, recalling how they hadn’t passed anyone. 

“I thought you were hoping I’d come after you.” He explained. 

“I-I-” She was so flustered. He’d completely caught her off guard, and yet a part of her did like that. She liked the strength, and ability to know exactly what he wants, and to go and take it without shame. 

“I just- “ She didn’t have a guard up. He’d given her no time to prepare- but now he was waiting. Looking at her, confused while she gathered herself. “I feel so guilty about doing this behind Goku’s back.” She said, She was guilty, too. But that wasn’t why she was pumping the breaks. 

“He won’t care.”

“And he's not going to marry me anyway, right?” She asked, her cheeks going red. 

“No. Not if I have anything to say about it.” Vegeta stood up a little straighter. “You would rather marry me, right?” She nodded. “So. I’ll make it happen.” He put his hands on his hips and looked her over with half lidded eyes. 

She was starting to feel a little more in control, so she opened her arms for him. He accepted her unspoken request, and crawled into bed with her. He went straight for her breast, resting his head on her chest and wrapping his arms around her waist. 

She wanted to ask his plan so badly, but she knew it was useless. He’d lie. He’d cover it up somehow. In the meantime, she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to be intimate with him. He seemed to love it when she ran her fingers through his hair, something she understood completely. 

“Why don’t you stay with me in my rooms for now? It’ll be safer.” 

“You’re just horney.” She scolded. 

“So are you.” He quipped back.  
She flushed. “I’m not.” 

“I can smell it.” He looked up at her. “The musk.” 

“The musk?” She asked, a little offended. Her nose twitched as she tried to smell what it was he was smelling, and she couldn’t smell a thing.

“It’s a saiyan thing.” He said proudly. “We always had better noses.” She pursed her lips a bit at this. He hadn’t brought up the saiyan thing much, but he did seem to take a lot of pride in the imaginary race he supposedly belonged to. She couldn’t openly tell him she thought it was ridiculous without it being a direct hit to his pride. 

“The saiyans… we never learned much about them in the south. They’re the descendants of the ape god, right?” She asked. 

“The- the first Saiyan wasn’t a god.” He scoffed and looked up at her, clearly annoyed at her lack of knowledge on his people's religious history. He sat up moved to sit at the head of the bed and lean on his pillows and face her properly.

“Than will you teach me about it? Your religion?” She asked. He eyed her skeptically for a time, before nodding.

“So, in the beginning there were two gods. Vita, and Mortem. Vita created the world, and the universe. She made everything. She got over zealous though, and made too much. So Mortem had to destroy some of it. Together, they made the world, and the all the other demigods. Vita’s favorite was the Ape man, Vegetabilis. He was strong, and loyal with a deeply rooted sense of family and clan. He protected those in his family, when the others were all fighting. So when the humans began fighting too, she gave him the Jungles of Sine Fine Proelium. A rough, deadly land. Only the strongest could survive there, so Vita gave the land to Vegetabilis, and Mortem gave him the power to destroy. 

He tamed the Jungle, and lead the people there until they were strong and clever, where they lived for millennia. They could kill, unlike the other humans, thanks to Mortem. Than, Vegetabilis got into a great war with Polypus, the god of the ocean when Polypus started raising the sea to steal his land. He knew he was going to lose, so he started to have half human children. In the end, Polypus raised the ocean, and swallowed up the Jungles of Sine Fine Proelium. But Vegetabilis was a strong, wise, and powerful leader. He held turned golden, and held the ocean at bay until his people could flee. Than, the ocean swallowed him up too, destroying his earthly body. 

Vita was so furious with Polypus for killing her favorite, she forever froze his head and feet, and gave the oceans to Luna to rule. She wanted to gift the people of the Jungle, so she came to earth and blessed Vegetabilis first born child, the Queen with a miracle child who would be half Vita. Now, we keep someone with the blood of Vegetabilis and Vita on the throne at all times. The royal family members are the only Saiyans left, but the royals have been inter breeding for so long every royal on the planet at this point has some of Vita and Vegetabilis in them.” 

As he was explaining, Bulma couldn’t help thinking about how this compared to the real world story of the people of Vegeta. How they’re had been a flood, that chased the jungle people out, and how they settled in the north where no one else dared try to live, because they had nothing. No way to fight, so they went to live where there were no foes, where they’d have nothing to steal which does speak to the resourcefulness of their queen at the time. Bulma just doubted they were all actually descended from gods. She listened though, and when she finished she couldn’t help grinning. 

“That explains the Saiyan pride, I suppose.” She sat on his lap and draped her arms around his neck. She wasn’t enjoying this as much as she wanted too. The idea that he was working against her now was like a nail in her chest whenever she remembered.

 

Vegeta slid his hands across her hips. “Would you like to pick up where we left off? I still haven't gotten to taste you, and your smell is starting to get to me.” 

His pants were tenting in the crotch in a way that told her he wasn’t lying. What would it hurt? She didn’t doubt it would be pleasurable, and if she didn’t he’d grow suspicious. 

“Sure.” She agreed. “I’m curious to hear about this northern talent you were bragging about. 

He grinned darkly and began tugging on her dress. She’d put her layers back on, so it would be a few minutes to get her naked again when- 

“PRINCESS BULMA!” It was the voice of the tall ginger guard. He pounded on the door so hard it shook. “PRINCESS BULMA IT’S YOUR GENERAL KRILLIN! HE’S HERE AND HE’S BADLY HURT! YOU NEED TO-” She lept off Vegeta so fast he was left in a moment of shocked confusion, his pants tented with no place to go. 

She pulled her bodice back on, and raced to the door, ripping it open and staring at the guard, who’s name she couldn’t recall. Nappa and Unus had moved to the side, and Usus’s face matched Bulma’s in their looks of shock. 

“Krillin?!” She cried, and looked at the guard who seemed frozen. “WELL TAKE ME TO HIM WHAT ARE YOU-” He didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence, and ran off. Bulma sprint after him, running just as fast as her legs could carry her. But she wasn’t as fast as the long legged huge guard. She was begining to get frustrated- when all at once she was lifted up again from around the waiste, and she was moving faster- 

She looked up to see that Nappa had just grabbed her around the middle and was sprinting, far faster than she could with his much longer legs- he was even a little faster than the finger guard. 

She could see the main entrance to the castle getting closer as Nappa hurried down the long corridor. Than, GOku came skidding through the door, holding a crumpled looking body in his arms, and running towards them. It was Krillin. She recognized his signature bronze colored armor- but he wasn’t moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH HI KRILLIN. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! As usual, please let me know what you thought of this chapter in the comments! It really helps me improve as a writer!
> 
> \---  
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	12. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma realizes she's going to have to say farewell

Krillin lay crumpled horribly in Goku’s arms. Before Bulma could stop herself, she healed him. She’d been planning on waiting until she heard a heartbeat, or a saw his breathe- but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t force herself not to heal him. 

“Krillin?!” She shouted, and pushed out of Nappa's arms when they were close enough, but she didn’t run to him. “GOKU DROP HIM!” She shouted. Goku frowned, and set Krillin’s limp frame down on the ground gently, and slowly. He cradled Krillin's head, and tried to lay him out as comfortably as possible. 

Bulma ran to him, and practically tackled him away from Krillin. 

“W- bulma what are you doing?!” 

“I don’t know if he was alive or not! I just- I couldn’t help it I healed him!” 

“But that’s… good?” Goku easily lifted her and put her down to his side, and tried to step closer to the unmoving form. 

Unus drew her sword, and pointed it at Krillin, just as Vegeta caught up. The three northern men looked horrified and baffled at Unus. Bulma however stood in front of Goku protectively. 

“Princess what are you-” Nappa took a step towards Krillin, the adrenaline still race through his veins. 

“Freeze.” Unus commanded, in such a voice that everyone stopped, and looked at her, even Vegeta. “Wait. She healed him. If he was alive, he’ll be fine. If he wasn’t…” She turned her gaze back to Krillin. “He’ll be a monster.” 

“Oh yeah, Bulma did tell us about that!” Goku stopped trying to move Bulma out of the way. Bulma kept looking from Krillin’s unmoving body, to Nappa, and Vegeta, watching to see if either of them tried moving into the danger zone. Unus was the only one of them who’d ever handled a monster like this. 

It twitched, and bones began cracking back into place with sickening snaps and clicks until Krillin looked healthy again. 

“OH HEY LOOK!” Goku said excitedly. “It worked he’s-” 

“Stop! We don’t know that yet!” Bulma elbowed Goku in the stomach when he tried to slip past her, making him double over a little and rub his surprisingly hard stomach in pain. 

“What will happen? If he is a monster now? How can we tell?” Nappa asked. 

“I’ll explain later, just- just let me handle it.” Unus snapped. Nappa nodded, and took a big step back, out of respect, holding one long protective arm out to keep Vegeta away too. 

The thing that may or may not be Krillin rolled to his side, and pushed against the ground to sit up. 

“‘S me. Not dead. Not gonna eat you- god that still hur-AH!” Krillin shouted in pain as another bone snapped back into place, and fell flat on the floor. 

Unus lowered her blade, and sagged in relief. Bulma lept to the floor by krillin and placed a hand flat on his back.  
“Oh thank god! Just hold still! Don’t move! Wait for it to finish.” 

“Yeah, not a lot of choice there but thanks anywOWOWOW!” He hit the floor and swore as his hip snapped back into his socket. Bulma couldn’t believe how badly he was hurt. She had a million questions, but she needed to know he was done healing first. Eventually, the snapping and popping stopped and he sagged against the floor in relief. 

“Oh god, Krillin.” Bulma pulled him half into her lap and hugged him around the neck so tightly it hurt.  
“I’m okay now.” He groaned, his voice muffled against her chest. “That will change if you break my neck though.” 

Embarrassed, Bulma let him go. She climbed to her feet and held out her hand to help him up. In her periphery Bulma could see Vegeta scowling at Krillin, but as soon as the man was on his feet, Vegeta smirked.

Krillin was not a tall man. He looked around at the royals surrounding him, eyes lingering on Goku. 

“You must be Prince Goku?” He asked, and bowed in the proper fashion for a general to a king, at least in the south. Bulma realized that here, it was a little too relaxed, but Goku never having been one for formality smiled openly and shook Krillin’s hand. 

“Yup!” 

“Uh- good. Look, I erm- I have something for you, and it’s not good….” 

“Krillin what?” Bulma stepped forward, a little spike of anger running through her. If Krillin thought that Goku was in charge now just because he was the man, and he and Bulma were engaged than he had another thing coming. 

“Princess, I’m sorry- I know we have a lot to discuss, but this is urgent. The Berserkers were driven out. King cold’s son Prince Frieza was with the group of assassins that killed your father. They were no match for an army, but before Prince Frieza escaped he…. Left us something, and said to give it to you when we went to see Princess Bulma in the north…” 

He pulled a pouch off his belt, and handed it to Goku. 

Eyes wide with curiosity, Goku took the pouch and looked inside. 

His face fell into a furious scowl, as he reached into the bag and pulled out a knot of… hair? It was a bun of pitch black hair. A cloth band held the bun together, while a lovely gemstone pin adorned its side, but the tendrils of loose hair on the other side of the band were bloody, some pieces still had what looked like a little skin on it. 

When goku frowned like this, Bulma could see the resemblance to Vegeta, and his adopted Father the king. She had no idea what was going on, or why that bun of hair made everyone go deathly quiet.  
“Frieza had said… to tell you… not to worry, that she still looks cute with short hair.” 

Bulma gasphed and covered her mouth with her hands. Was it- chichi? Clearly Goku knew right away who the hair belonged to. 

“I suppose we ought to be glad it was just hair, than.” King Vegeta spoke up, startling all of them as he’d approached without anyone noticing. “We march for the south at once. Holding a member of the royal family hostage like this will not stand. Alert the Ox-King that his daughter is still alive.” The king ordered a stuart, and looked around a the group of them. 

“Finally. Some news. Come on, we have much planning to do and very little time in which to do-” 

“No one tells Gohan.” Goku said firmly. “No one.” He locked eyes with his father, and for a moment Bulma thought he was going to punch him or something. Was it normal for anyone to command the king? Even one of his sons?” 

“Of course not. The boys too stupid and rash, he’d run into battle and get killed, much like you’re planning on doing now.” King Vegeta crossed his arms and glared at Goku. 

“Which will do her no good.” Prince Vegeta added. He put a hand on Goku’s shoulder. “I’ll support you completely in saving her, Goku. I’ll fight alongside you. I’ll do everything I can. So trust us, and don’t try to run off on your own.” 

A small, determined smile played at Goku’s lips as he looked at his older brother. “Thanks, Vegeta.” 

“Goku….” Bulma spoke up, drawing everyone's gaze to her for a moment. “I- I’ll do all I can too. I know this means we can’t be married, but I’ve grown to care about you a lot over these last few days, and I want you to be happy. You have the south’s full support.” 

“Thanks, Bulma.” He said, and looked to his brother before and slapped his shoulder a little roughly. 

They gathered in the war room to plan. Servants brought food, and Krillin dug in happily.  
“How did you get here, how were you hurt so badly?” Bulma asked Krillin, hovering over him like a mother would a child, despite him being fine. She couldn’t unsee his mangled body. 

“Well, funny story… I sort of…. Captured and rode a giant owl.” He gulped loudly. 

“WHAT?!” Bulma shouted. 

“Well, Frezia tossed me Queen Chi-chi’s hair and I just- Oh wait was she still Princess?” Krillin asked, and looked to Goku who nodded. “Right. Princess Chi-Chi. I knew you’d have come to the north, and that you’d be planning a battle, but i didn’t want you to make any orders that would leave the south defenceless, without all the information. I wanted to get the message to you as quickly as possible. I was hoping Piccolo would come back on Ember, but when I didn’t see him for a day, I decided to take a gamble. I noticed the owls flying north, which I thought was very odd, but-” 

“It’s for the decennium pestis!” Tarble said. Bulma blinked at him in surprise since he so rarely spoke to her. 

“Oh! Prince Tarble! Thank you- but What?” 

“The decennium pestis! They’re these horrible loud bugs, huge bugs that come out every ten years or so and swarm the far north for about a month! The eggs hatch, they breed, lay more eggs and die all in that time, than the eggs take about ten years to hatch. They’re horrible! The owls love it though, it’s like an all you can eat buffet! And the giant owls are some of the only birds that can live comfortably in the cold up there so there isn’t a lot of competition. It’s been about ten years since the last swarm, so they Owls must be headed up to feast! I bet they can remember since they live so long.” 

Bulma’s face split into a wide smile.  
“Wow! That’s really fascinating! I’ve never heard of eggs taking so long to hatch! How is it they survive for so long?” 

“The decennium pestis lay the eggs inside trees, and deep underground, where it’s hard for other things to get too!” 

“Wow, they must be horrific to burrow through wood!” 

“Yeah their pincers are huge! Hurts to get bit a lot.”He said eagerly. Bulma loved it when smart children got excited about sharing their knowledge. Though, Tarble was hardly a child, maybe a very young teenager. 

“They don’t usually make it this far south, but last time a small swarm did cause a bit of a nuisance.” Vegeta mused, and looked fondly at his youngest brother. “You were too young to remember, I think.” 

“No, I remember.” Tarble said, suddenly serious. “I remember we were outside training. They came out of no-where and you put your cloak over me to protect me from them, since one cloak wasn’t thick enough. I still remember you grabbing me and wrapping that cloak around me, covering my face completely, and carrying me home.” Tarble smiled thankfully up at Vegeta, who looked genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, that’s how you got all those scars, right Vegeta? You wrapped your head in your shirt to keep them off your eyes and stuff and it left your chest exposed?” Goku thought back. 

Vegeta didn’t look amused at having this memory brought up, but it made a wave of affection for him wash over Bulma. Could he really be working against her? The man who almost died to protect his little brother? She wondered. He’d lied too, saying it was training. He could have bragged about it, but he didn’t. 

“While this bug talk is FASCINATING.” Krillin said, drawing their attention back to him. “It explains the owls going north. So, I managed to capture one by lureing it with a bucket of dead mice. While it was eating, I crawled onto its back, and held on. It hardly noticed me, honestly.” 

Bulma thought that a normal sized man wouldn’t be able to ride a giant owl. Even if they were called giant, they were the size of about a pony. 

“When it got north, I tried steering it to the castle. It sort of worked, in that I got it to fly over the castle, but I realized too late i had no way to land- so since i knew you were here Princess, I took a risk and just… jumped off.”

“You could’ve have crushed your skull, and than you’d be dead. I can’t head dead things.” Bulma snapped. She was so furious at Krillin. 

“Yeah, I know! Okay, I know! But- It was important. He might be touring the princess for all we know.” 

Bulma looked to Goku, nervously. He’d stopped eating and now leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. 

“Uh- sorry.” Krillin said sheepishly. “I just- it’s King Cold. He’s not known for… being nice to prisoners.” 

“Chi-chi is strong. She’ll make it until we can get there.” Goku said firmly. 

And no one argued.

“So. The south is secure?” King Vegeta asked

“As secure as it can be.” Krillin said. “Maybe even more. Everyone is on high alert. Now that we’re looking, i don’t think he’ll be able to slip through again.”

“He’s probably going to try and grab me while I’m in transit.” Bulma realized. “They didn’t think I would escapee because they didn’t know about Ember, but they do now. They’ll be looking for a way to take to skys…”

“Or working on weapons that would be able to hit Ember in the air. How high can he fly?” Vegeta mused, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 

“We can fly as high as I can breathe. Ember doesn’t need air like we do.” Bulma explained. “But we’d have to land, and if they have harpoons, or some other weapons… we’d be vulnerable.” She stood up and went to stand by the fire, hoping the warmth would clear the pain of the cold and make it easier for her to think. 

“We need to go south, regardless. They’ll attack there first.” Vegeta got up to join her. She wondered why he was so sure of that. How would putting her south ruin the war? If he wanted it, than it must be some sort of sabotage. They would go wherever she was. She wanted to leave so she’d be putting fewer people at risk, and to lead her people. She worried about what would happen without her there. They’d feel abandoned, for sure.

If she revealed her power to them, they’d fight. They’d fight with the sort of bravery and strength only faith in something impossible could instill.  
“Yes. I agree.”

“How do we get you south though?” Krillin took another bit of the meat pie he’d been given. 

“We can’t fly. They know we’ll try something else since they all saw Ember, but they’ll have eyes on the sky all the same…” 

“Than how do you intend on getting there?” The King asked. 

“I can’t tell you. The only people who can know, are the ones travelling south with me. The fewer people who find out, the less chance of being intercepted. If word gets out…” She shook her head. 

“Hmm. How will we know if you make back safely?” The queen asked, speaking up for the first time since the meeting started. 

“I’ll send word once I’m there. It’ll be no secret that I’ve arrived. We just need to keep how and when, quiet.” 

“Alright. Goku, obviously you’re going South.”

“So am I.” Vegeta said and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“What? No.” The king scoffed and shook his head. “Which reminds me. Princess, with Chichi alive, that means you’re engaged to Tarble. So, Tarble you should go with her.” Tarble’s jaw dropped. 

“I’ll be marrying her.” Vegeta declared. Everyone went quiet, and looked at him. 

“Are you telling me you’re abdicating?” King Vegeta stood up from his seat at the head of the table, shaking with barely controlled rage.

“Absolutely not.” Prince Vegeta scoffed at the idea. “No, instead I suggest we do something radical once the war is over. A merger. Our people move south, and out of this frozen hell, and we thrive in the heat. We merge the countries, and Princess Bulma and I become equal rulers. Our child becomes the next ruler, and so on.”

The world stopped for a moment. So _this_ was his plan? To merge the Isle and Vegeta? To make them one country? He was right, if he did this he’d be the best king… probably. At the very least there wouldn’t be as many sick people in the Isle of Life….

“A merger?” King vegeta almost yelled. “You mean the north would be absolved into The Isle Of life! We don’t have enough people to match their population! Our blood would run thin until our culture was a memory!” The king punched the table making Bulma jump and stand closer to the fire. 

“We aren’t northerners. Our people started off in humid, warm jungles and we don’t belong here. Our population has shrank more and more with each passing year because of the cold. We’re not living, or thriving, we’re surviving. They deserve to live, comfortably. They deserve health. To go outside without the very air trying to kill them.”

“No. Out of the question!” King vegeta stormed towards his eldest son. 

“When I’m king, I’ll make it happen. Without your help, or with it. Which happens in less than a week, if you forgot.” 

That stopped the king dead in his tracks. He glared at his son. 

“You’ll be slowly erasing our people.” 

“No.” Bulma spoke up. “That’s not how it works. Not really. A lot of namekians migrated to the Isle, and they still practice their culture. They haven’t forgotten it. You’re people look so different from mine that it’ll be impossible to no know where they came from. It’ll… There will be problems, but I think Vegeta is right. It’s a good idea. It’s what’s best for your people, and mine. Our merger will create a new country altogether. It won’t be Vegeta, or the Isle of Life. It’ll be something new. Something that takes the best of both.” 

“You say that, but you can’t control the people.” 

“No, but we can set an example. I think we should do it.” Bulma would have taken Vegeta’s hand, but his arms were crossed. So she just put her hand on his shoulder to show her support. “Vegetabilis blood will still run in the veins of every King or Queen from here on out. And they’ll rule a country larger, and greater than either of us were alone. Lavish, and comfortable, but strong.” 

“Well, as my son pointed out… I’ll have no say.” The king seemed to be deflating a little as he realized everyone agreed with his son. 

“Honey…” Queen Gine pushed out of her chair and wrapped her arms around her husbands arm. “I wouldn’t have gotten sick if we were south. I think it’s the best place for us, for everyone. It’s far too cold up here.” 

“We’ve been here for thousands of years.” He scoffed. 

“Hardly one thousand, bad years where we only barely made it. Look at how much more the Isle has accomplished? That could be us.” 

“As I’ve said. I apparently have no say.” 

“Oh you have say.” Vegeta corrected. “I will always value your opinion.” Those words made his father stop at the doorway. For a minute, Bulma thought he was going to turn around, but he didn’t.

\-----

“So. How _ARE_ we getting there??” Unus asked when the six of them were alone. 

Bulma looked around at Krillin, Goku, Unus, Vegeta, and Nappa. “Secretly. But Vegeta… we should wait until the war is over before your coronation. If you die while we’re fighting…” 

“Than Fasha is Queen.” 

“Just like that?” 

“Yes. Now what’s your plan?” 

“How did I end up the plan person?” Bulma half hugged herself and took a step towards the fire. 

“You’ve got a plan though, right?” 

“I do. I just- Fine. We wait for Ember and Piccolo, and than we have him take Nappa and Unus straight to the castle. Unus will wear this white cloak, and a long dress. They wouldn’t dare shoot down ember because they need me alive. They’d believe it’s me because they’d expect the biggest meanest looking guard to be assigned to me. No offence-”

“Thanks.” Nappa said proudly. Unus smiled at him.

“Right. Okay. Good. So than Krillin and Goku take a small caravan south, along the kings road.” 

“No. I need to get there faster.” Goku said. 

“They’ll be expecting you to act rashly. By taking the slow route they’ll assume that means you know something they don’t, and back off. Meanwhile, Vegeta and I will travel in disguise, to the coast and take a ship down. There’s a port we can use, my ships frequent there for trade so we’ll be able to hide away on one of those pretty easily.” 

“You think you’ll blend in? You don’t blend in, Princess.” Krillin said with a deep frown. 

“I’ll be disguised as a peasant ill with plague, and Vegeta will be the plague doctor. He’ll have a built in reason to wear a mask, and I’ll have a reason to cover my face. No one will want to get close enough to either of us to see that we’re royal. Besides, once we’re far enough away from the Castle, most people won’t recognize us on sight.” She said surly. 

“That, could work.” Vegeta rubbed his chin in the way Bulma had come to realize meant he was thinking very deeply. 

“Krillin, you should go get some rest now. It’s been a long day and you’ve been flying non-stop all night.” Bulma said, turning away from Vegeta to smile at her old friend. “I think you’ll enjoy the pink room. It’s very warm and comfortable.” 

“Yeah? Yeah. I’m exhausted. Thanks Bulma.” Krillin half bowed to Bulma, and stepped outside, and looked around blankly. 

Vegeta took pity on him and went into the hallway to summon a handmaid to ready the pink room and take him there. Goku started to leave too when Bulma took his elbow. 

“Hey. We’ll save her. I know it feels like we’re not trying, but we are. Once we get south we’ll be able to make sure it’s properly fortified, and then we’ll be able to mount a proper rescue mission. I don’t think he’s got any plan to kill her. He probably wants to use her as a bargaining chip, and if she’s dead he can’t do that.” 

Goku’s shoulders raised a little, as if he had less weight on him.  
“Yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Bulma. Honestly I’m just… excited to see her again. I miss her.”  
“I can only imagine. It’s easy to see how much she means to you. You’re an excellent, loyal husband, Goku. She’s lucky to have you, and from the sounds of it, you’re lucky to have her.” 

“I am. I really am. Good Night, Bulma.” 

“Good night, Goku.” 

The door closed behind him, and Bulma realized that she wasn’t going to see him for a very long time. She wouldn’t see Unus again either, maybe not ever. She turned to look at her long time lover and friend. 

“When you get to the Isle, inform them of what’s going on, and then you’re free to do as you like.” She said, her chest heavy.

 

“Thank you, Princess.”

For once, Bulma didn’t cry. She just nodded, and turned away to face Vegeta, and take his offered arm. She was nearly to the tower room again when a guard caught up to them. "Your highnesses!" He paused to bow deeply. "I'm to inform you that Sir Krillin was just seen leaving the city, on horseback. He said he was going south to prepare the castle for your arrival, Princess." Bulma gaped at him. Krillin had only just gotten here and now he was leaving again! She nodded politely to the guard, despite her shock. Vegeta dismissed him. "Well. He left in a hurry." "I think he's in love." Bulma said softly. "I don't know who with, but it's definatly someone in the south. We'll have to ask him why he took off like this next time we see him." She sighed, and turned back to Vegeta, who nodded. 

\----

Loud, half drunken laughter echoed down the cold hallway. The noise bouncing off the stone until it was painful to the ear. She didn’t even blink. She’d been here so long already, that she’d gotten more than used to it. 

Pain filled her every joint and muscle, but it didn’t stop Chi-Chi from reaching into her cloth belt and pulling out a thick black key. She looked the thing over her in hand. Such a small thing meant so much to her. A promise that she’d not be here forever. She just needed to wait a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This Chapter is very WORDY! I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think in the comments! It means the world to me!
> 
> Also, Here's a quick sketch of Chi-Chi i did for the fic!  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> \----  
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	13. The New King of Vegeta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The land of Vegeta gets a new king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bless you all for waiting through the hiatus!

In the south, a coronation was the event of the decade. A royal being crowned usually only happened once in a lifetime so it was a big, big deal. A huge ceremony was held, with royals from around the world being invited, and thousands of people attending. The new King or queen would be dressed in something so elegant and extravagant that people would be talking about it for months, while the nobles and wealthy would be mimicking the style, and working parts of it into their own fashion for decades. 

To this day it was still very popular to wear fitted mesh gold bodices to formal events, something Bulma’s own grandmother had popularized at her coronation, and many men had started working bright pops of blue into their outfits, as her Father had worn royal blue silks to be crowned. He’d said it was the color of water, and water was life. 

But in the north, things were done…. differently. Rulers here were crowned in a private ceremony, with only the family and other royals from allied countries invited to witness it. That had been what they did in the south too, up until about a thousand years ago, during a war where in the southern Princess decided to bring the people with her, and let them see her be crowned to raise moral. 

If this had been the south, the castle staff would be going nuts trying to get all the work done. But it wasn’t. It was the north, and it was business as usual. 

“So… How does the ceremony work here?” She asked Vegeta as he sat next to her in the training room, still panting from his work out.  
“What?”  
“The coronation.” 

“Oh. Well, I’ll fight my father and if I win I’ll become King. I’ll take the throne, literally.” 

“What wait? A fight? A literal… fight?” She sat up straight and turned to face him.

“Yes, to prove I’m stronger than him so I’m worthy to take the throne. If I lose, He stays king for another year and then I try again, and again until Goku is old enough, than he tries. The king is whoever wins first as each child becomes 30.” 

“But- that's horrible. What if you die?” She asked, horrified. 

“He’s my father, Bulma I doubt he’ll kill me. It’s not a fight to the death.” He shook his head in amazement at her. “You really think we’d fight to the DEATH?” 

“Well- I just- I did, I guess. Sorry.” She looked down at her book in shame and closed it. 

“Well, we don’t. When I win, and I will win-” He said confidently. Bulma looked over his muscled chest and couldn’t help but agree. “I’ll announce the merger. Than, the berserkers- or colds or whatever the fuck they are will go running, like the cowards they are.” 

“You think so?” 

“Bulma, I know so. When they attacked your country they did so because they didn’t think you’d be able to fight back.” He said confidently. 

“They wanted to kidnap me and kill my father and put the citizens into a state of chaos.” Bulma corrected. “Also we have a huge army. We’re not helpless. They know that, thus the sneak attack.” She said defensively. “But we will grow stronger when we merge with the north. I just think it’s best to announce it after we’ve won. We can’t merge the two countries while we’re in the middle of war.” 

Vegeta wiped his face off and raised a brow at her. “It’ll split our focus too much.” She explained. “For now, nothing changes. We’re strong allies, you still become king and come to the south, than we win, and announce the merger. It allows our people to focus. I will announce the coronation though, as soon as I get back home. That’ll give the common people something to look forward too. A little hope in the darkness. Than, I’ll put King Cold’s head on a spike.” She said wistfully.

“A spike? My, my, my. Aren’t you a blood thirsty one.” 

“He killed my father. I’ll kill him personally if I can. No. No actually I won't. I’ll kill his son, Frieza. Than, I’ll heal the corpse, and let Frieza become a monster, than I’ll let Frieza kill King Cold. He’ll have to watch in horror as he’s eaten alive by his own son.” Bulma was a little surprised by her own viciousness. She didn’t know if she’d actually be able to do it, but it was sorely tempting, and anyway it was fun to think about for now.

“OHHO! Vicious. I like it.” Vegeta smirked proudly at her. 

The next four days were spent almost entirely on getting ready for the trip, and preparing for Vegeta’s coronation. Bulma did all the planning she could in the training room since it was warm, leaving only when King Vegeta came in to train as he did more and more often these days. 

On the last day before Vegeta’s coronation, Ember and Piccolo returned. Bulma heard Ember’s thoughts in her mind before they landed, and ran to greet him in the courtyard just as his hooves touched ground. 

“EMBER!” She rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck. He rest almost the entire weight of his massive head on her shoulder, and plopped right to the ground, making her knees buckle under her and hit the pavement. 

“Are you okay?” She healed him before even finishing the question. 

“Just tired now. We flew almost none stop for days.” 

“Days?!” She hissed, and looked up at Piccolo. “What happened?” 

“Wake me up when you’re done telling her.” Ember grumbled, and rest his head in Bulmas lap, and fell asleep almost instantly. Bulma almost never saw him sleep. He was the sort of being that usually didn’t need sleep- so the fact that he was now, worried her. 

“Princess, we went to find General Roshi first. He has the whole navy on defensive stand by, ready to sail at a moment's notice, and ready for battle. He’s got about 12 ships down south, disguised at pirates, and gathering information from the berserkers doing trade with them.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out a stack of folded papers sealed and addressed to her. She took them, awkwardly reaching over Ember’s head to do so.

“It’s reports from all the outposts, and military bases around the Isle. They need to act soon, but they don’t dare without you.” Piccolo explained. 

“I see. Piccolo,” She looked over the letters to see who they were from. “Is this all the urgent information?” 

“No, Princess. There’s more. Roshi captured a guard from Frieza's army, and he’s… He got information out of him. Nothing vital to the war effort, but more information about how Freezia treats prisoners.” Piccolo looked around the courtyard cautiously. “And princess, I heard rumor that Frieza actually has Goku’s wife captive-”

“Chi-chi. Yes, we got his message.” She looked down at the stack of letters, and back up at her old friend, tutor, and ally. He hadn't even let go of Ember’s back yet- apparently too tired.  
“Get some rest, my friend. We’ll talk more once you’ve had a little while to sleep, eat and wash.” She stroked Ember’s mane in the way she knew he liked, even though she doubted he could feel it he was so deeply asleep. 

“You.” She said, starting a stable boy so much he nearly threw the barrel of hey he was carrying. 

“Go to the handmaids and fetch a mattress. Not a destroyed one, but one that the castle can live without and bring it to me. We need to make a soft bed for Ember to rest.” She ordered. “You.” She pointed to another boy walking with an armful of wood.  
“When you’re done with that, bring wood here, and build a fire in the court yard near my steed to warm him. Be quick about it.” 

She healed both boys as they ran off. “And you.” She said, calling to the handmaid lingering by the door. Judging from the amount of keys she was holding she was high ranking. “Please see to it that the boy’s masters or, what have you know they were given chores by me so they’re not punished for running a little behind.”

“Yes of course, Princess.” She bowed, and took off.

It took the more than half an hour, but they managed to drag out a few thick, old looking but otherwise fine mattresses and lay them out beside Ember so they could roll him comfortably into bed.  
“Princess, shall we cover the mattresses in some of the extra pelts the people sent you?” One Hand maid offered. “There are so many.”  
“Yes that would be lovely, thank you.” She said, still seated on the ground with Ember’s head on her lap. The flames on his wings, and hooves looked more like burning coal them a proper flame. She didn’t know if that had anything to do with his energy level, or over all health- but he told her before that her healing powers worked on him, so he wasn’t injured or sick, at the very least. 

Once they had set up a fairly comfortable plush pile of mattresses and got a nice hot fire going beside him, Bulma let some of the stronger looking guards roll Ember off her lap and onto the bed. It took about ten of them, including Napa. 

When she was free of his weight, she climbed to her numb legs.  
“Vegeta?” She asked, as he helped her to her feet. “Can you arrange for me to speak to the people of the town directly?” 

“You wish to address the people? I suppose we could arrange it, send a few bards out to spread word throughout the town. Why? What do you plan to say?” 

“I plan on thanking them, and telling them to stop sending me gifts.” She explained. Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Write out what you want to say so my council can look it over to approve it. We don’t want to come off as ungrateful.”

“Alright.” She felt a pang of annoyance. She had enough to do today without adding to her workload, but she understood why they had this policy in place, so she complied. While she waited for them to approve the address, she went over the letters, including the one detailing the way prisoners were treated by the colds. 

 

After everything was set up, Nappa showed Bulma too the balcony where she’d be stood to make her address. It was small, which was good, and had partial cover from the top and both sides. It was also so high up that she worried the people wouldn’t be able to hear her.  
“Nappa….” She asked, turning to the huge man. “Do they have relay bards in the north?” 

“What? What’s that?” He asked. 

“That does answer my question, thank you. What about speaking trumpets?” 

“Erm…” He rubbed the back of his neck in a very Goku-ish way. 

“Not to worry. Thank you. We should go see the blacksmith now.” she gathered her skirts and off she went. She had the blacksmith put together a rudimentary speaking horn for her by coiling a flat sheet of thin metal into a cone shape for her, and sealing the edges. There was no time to make it nice. Than, she had the castle bards gather. 

“During the address, i’d like you to all to read the speech in unison with me, from positions around the crowd, so people can hear everything very clearly. I’ll speak in a rhythmic cadence, so it’ll be easy to keep on pace. You should all stand only just within earshot of one another, so we know we’re in unison. Do you understand?” She asked. 

“Yes, princess of course! Shall we practise beforehand?” 

“Yes, I don’t see the harm in one or two run throughs.” She agreed, and they set too it with the approved speech. They hadn’t requested any changes, which was a huge relief since Bulma wouldn’t have stuck with them anyway, and didn’t want to anger her hosts. 

With her spare time, she went to find Goku. Surprisingly, he was in his own chambers rather than the training room. When she knocked- there was an odd crashing sound before the door opened.  
“Oh! Bulma!” Goku said with the sense of a person trying to sound casual. “What’s up?” 

“I got some news from the south. It’s not.. Good. It seems as if they’re holding chi-chi in the Colds home base south of the southern canale. If she’s there- we won’t be able to save her until we defeat the Cold’s army. I know it’s hard to hear but-”

“Oh. Well, we kind of already knew that. Didn’t we?” Goku said, cutting her off. “Or we’ll have to trade for her, or something. Negotiate her release.” 

Bulma was surprised at how readily Goku accepted this. She reached out to pat her new friends shoulder. “We’ll get her back. I promise. We’ll save her.” 

\--- 

That evening, with the setting sun shining directly into her eyes, Bulma stood on the balcony wearing one of the many pelts gifted to her, and gave her speech to the people. 

“Good evening, and thank you all for coming out to hear me on such short notice. As many of you know, I’m Princess Bulma, of the Isle of Life. The past weeks have been riddled with hardships for my land, and for myself, personally. The loss of my father was a huge blow. I shall miss him dearly, and forever. But it has not crippled the Isle of Life. Thanks, to you. The warm welcome I received upon arriving in the North has been a powerful source of strength. It’s because I know that the north is such a wonderful, and strong ally that I know we can defeat the wicked who threaten our peace, and way of life. 

Using the gift god has given me has been a great joy. I’m so honored to be gifted with such a power, that I might help you, and the people you love. It’s my greatest wish to see you healthy, and thriving. For that reason, I must thank you for all the wonderful pelts you’ve sent to the castle for me, and I must also ask that you keep the pelts, to warm your loved ones from here on out. I’ve more pelts than one person could use in a lifetime, you’ve all be so generous. But there are so many people in much greater need than me. Soon, you will all need every resource as both lands head towards the tides of war. But I know the north will persevere. The Saiyan race has survived so much more than this before, and I know you will all make it through the troubled times ahead with the strength and pride that only the Saiyan’s possess.

Thank you, for your generosity, and may god bless each and every one of you!”

As she spoke, she looked over everyone who’d crowded into the street below to listen to the speech. She waved, and after a moment of smiling and waving, she went inside. 

“Well.” Vegeta said as he pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on. “That was well said. I think the people will be pleased. And whoever gave you that pelt will probably tell his grandchildren about it for decades.” 

“I hope so. It was a very generous gift with the approaching war. I shall keep them forever, but i think they’ll be less handy when we get to the south. It’s much to warm for furs down there.” 

“I remember.” Vegeta said longingly. “The warm air, the cool clean water, the fresh fruit piled on every pastry, every dish served with herbs so fresh it made me wonder how they could possibly be the same as the ones we had at home. It really is paradice.” 

“Bugs that eat you all the time.” Bulma added. “That’s probably the only downside though.” She said placatingly when she saw a vein in Vegeta’s jaw twitch. “I never knew how much you loved it there.” She admitted. “You were so quiet when we were children.”

“Well, you were formally engaged to my little brother. I didn’t want to appear too friendly.” He shrugged. “And I wasn’t old enough to appreciate the company of women yet.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” She lied

“Princess! Princess!” The stable boy from before ran up to Bulma so fast that he had a hard time slowing down and stopping when he got to her, and fell over. “Princess! Your steed! He’s- he’s- the fire-” The boy panted. 

And just like that, the pleasantness on her face melted. Panic flared through her and she sprinted down the corridor, towards the court yard where Ember had been resting. Judging from the sounds of footsteps behind her, Vegeta and Unus were right behind her. Fueled by worry- by the fear that her friend had gone- she tore through the castle, even knocking over a poor handmaid with her arms full of clean linen that came crashing to the ground with her. Bulma didn't even pause to heal her. Had Ember’s fire gone out? Bulma wasn’t sure what that would mean- but she had a suspicion that it meant he was dead. 

She skid into the courtyard, stopping only when she saw what the boy had been trying to tell her. Ember lay, quiet unmoving in the center of the large bonfire they’d built by his resting spot. Around him were concerned castle staff. Among them, was Goku looking worried, and upset. 

Bulma’s chest caved with relief as she exhaled and struggled to catch her breath.  
“He woke up and just climbed in the fire and fell over again!” Another stable boy cried, quiet frantically. 

“It’s alright!” Bulma shouted, hand on her chest while she tried to breathe. “He’s fine! He does that all the time! He loves the heat- fire can’t hurt him! Don’t worry about it!” She waved her hand at him to show it was fine while she swallowed the lump in her chest. “I thought you’d meant his fire had gone out! No, he’s okay. Back home he’d take naps in Lava when he felt like it.” 

Relief swept over them, much like it had Bulma, leaving everyone sagging a little as the tension left them, and looking much happier. 

 

Ember didn’t wake that night, or at all the next day. Piccolo didn’t even show up to meals until dinner that following evening, looking much better than he had when he landed. Goku had been oddly friendly that day. Spending a lot of time with Bulma as she worked, Gohan at his side. Vegeta it seemed was very busy trying to train a little more before the coronation.  
“Normally this would be an important rest day- but since you can heal him, he just keeps getting stronger faster!” Goku said, sounding impressed and proud of his older brother. 

“Why is that, dad?” Gohan asked. “I know rest is important, but i thought it was so we could regain energy. Bulma’s healing can’t give us back our energy, can it?” Gohan wondered. Bulma opened he mouth to answer automaticly, but Goku beat her too it. 

“No, Gohan it’s a little of both! See, when you work out you’re sort of damageing the muscles. When they heal, they heal bigger, and stronger, and that can take a day or so. That’s why work outs steadily get harder and harder. You need to do more to damage the new, stronger muscles. Like when you cut yourself, and the scar is tougher than the rest of the skin around it, you know?” Gohan's face lit up in realization and he nodded. 

While that wasn’t exactly right, it wasn’t wrong enough to harm anyone so Bulma didn’t correct him. Throughout the day, Goku asked a lot of questions about the south, presumably to prepare for when he would be a guest there. It started to get annoying when Bulma couldn’t focus on trying to invent her mask that would filter out the deadly gas. Despite her annoyance she answered as many of his questions as she could. 

When it was time for dinner, she was relieved to have other peoples company as well- and lit up at the sight of Piccolo. 

“Piccolo!” Bulma said, delightedly when she saw him. “You’re awake! Are you feeling better now that you’ve had some rest?” She asked and he nodded, gratefully.  
“Much. Thank you. Did you read all of the letters and-”

“Yes! Yes! It’s very good news, isn’t it?” She asked cheerfully. Vegeta looked sideways at her, brow raised.  
“Good news?” He asked.  
“Yes! Well, I’ll tell you and your family after dinner, when we retire to the lounge.” She said. “So i won’t have to say it several times.” 

She was in such a good mood that she didn’t even mind Vegeta pestering her about it all meal. His mood was rather less pleasant by the time they had gathered with the rest of his family in the lounge. 

He sat with his arms crossed, like he usually did but this time he wasn’t looking at Bulma, but rather glaring in any direction that wasn’t at her. 

“So what’s this good news?” Piccolo asked as soon as he was seated next to a rather uncomfortable looking Gohan. 

“Yes!” Bulma said brightly, and climbed to her feet to stand in front of the Saiyan family and the Piccolo. “I’ve gotten word from my generals and they’ve secured the castle! The south is safe again. Properly safe. There was an attack on one of our naval ports on the western coast just the suncoast. General Roshi was clever, and let the port be taken. We’ve got a leg up now.” She said and beamed at them. 

“Sorry- a port was taken? How is that good?” Goku asked. Vegeta snorted indignantly at him. 

“It’s a port that floods daily with the tides. It’s basically useless, but we hold it anyway for show. The fact that the Cold’s took it proves that they have very little insider information. They probably don’t know how often that port is completely submerged. The soldiers there work rather hard to keep it looking good when it’s not flooded for just such an occasion! It means the Colds have no idea what they’re doing.” 

There was a pause while everyone thought about this. 

“So, after the… ceremony. I’m going south. As planned.” She expected there to be some argument on this, but nobody protested. 

Bulma spent the rest of the evening ironing out the details with Piccolo. 

The following day. Bulma dressed much more formally than she usually did, in preparation for the coronation. There were no formal meals being held before the ceremony today. None whatsoever. The next meal they had, would feature the new king at the head of the table. Or, the old. 

Bulma looked for Vegeta, wanting to give him words of encouragement but she couldn’t find him- and when she tried his room Nappa refused to allow her entry. Apparently, he wanted to be alone before the fight. That was fine, she supposed. Everyone prepared for action differently. 

She managed to keep her nerves in check until that afternoon when she approached the throne room for the ceremony. Nappa stepped in front of the door, and like earlier with Vegeta’s bedroom, refused to allow her inside. 

“What? Why?” She demanded.  
“You dishonor the Isle as an ally!” Unus said, outraged. 

“Vegeta and the King agree that it would be unfair to let you watch the fight, as you could heal Vegeta and provide him with an unfair advantage. You may heal them after, and witness the swearing in.” 

Bulma was so outraged at this that she turned on her heal and stomped off. How could they think she was so stupid?! How could they think she would heal them by mistake! She’d only done that a couple of times, and each of those times she thought there was real danger- but she’d had ages to prepare for this! 

She waited in the study nearest the throne room, arms crossed and toe tapping she was so furious. Unus waited outside, with Nappa. She was going to give Vegeta, both of them a piece of her mind when they were done beating each other like savages. She was so mad, that she forgot to be nervous about the outcome of the fight until Nappa came to tell her it was done. A sudden thrill of panic struck her- head Vegeta won? Or his father? She rushed to the throne room, without noticing Unus hastily adjusting her Breastplate and flushing at Nappa.  
Bulma came skidding through the hall squeezing through the grand double doors before the attendants could properly open them for her. 

Vegeta stood on the raised dias, covered in blood. On the ground at his feet, lay his father. In Vegeta’s left hand, he clutched the crown. No one clapped, except Fasha, and Goku who seemed to be doing so with some deliberate defiance. Gine looked green around the ears. Her eyes on her husband. Was he dead? Bulma rushed forward.

“Don’t.” Croaked a deep voice, that sounded almost grotesquely wet. “Not yet.” It was Vegeta Sr, laying on the ground. “Not until- after.” Vegeta looked down at his father and nodded. Bulma took another step towards them- but stayed father back than Gine, and Goku. 

“That means you, Princess. Don’t heal us. Not yet.” Vegeta ordered, eyes locking on Bulmas for a long moment. She nodded. She wanted to tell him off for not just explaining this before- but now wasn’t the time.

In complete silence, the son approached the throne, and knelt on the stone before it, his head bowed in prayer. He remained still for such a long time, that Bulma began looking sideways at Goku, and Fasha for answers, but they had closed their eyes, and ducked their heads too. 

Slowly, the light in the room shifted, from the orange of sunset, to the pale white of early night. A circle of white light was moving across the throne room floor through the big stained window of Vegetabilis. Bulma realized that it would eventually land on Vegeta, if he stayed where he was kneeling. 

And he did. And it did. Slowly the white light covered him until it looked like he was sitting in a shallow puddle of white water. Bulma was now so stiff that she wondered how the others looked so calm- when she noticed that they did not look calm. They looked worried. She wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t gotten to know them a bit over the last few weeks, but she could see it now.

Fasha’s neck was tight, and she kept swallowing. Goku kept reaching up to rub the back of his neck, and a vein in Gine’s jaw kept twitching. 

Than, out of nowhere a cry of pain ripped through the air. Bulma jumped, and looked around to see Vegeta, now on his knees, and elbows shrieking in pain- she was going to heal him- but Before she could Goku had grabbed her and spun her around so she couldn’t see him. 

“Wait! Bulma- Wait! We have to see if he can handle it!” He hissed. He grabbed her face and forced her to keep her back to Vegeta- but he was shrieking in pain- each new scream making her jump and try to see him- not to heal, but to see what was going on- to see what was happening. 

But Goku didn’t let her go while he watched his brother with a set determined look on his face. The ground shook under her feet and Vegeta’s voice grew deeper, and more animal like until it sounded like a beast stood behind her, screaming it’s battle cry- She jerked her head towards Goku, something he hadn’t been expecting. It caught him off guard just long enough for her to spin around only to let out a scream of fear.

Where Vegeta had stood, in the pool of moonlight was a huge, great ape with glowing red eyes. Bulma slapped her hand over her mouth as the beast turned it’s huge ugly head in her direction, and narrowed it’s red eyes at her. 

Goku went to stand in front of her- but she moved in front of him despite her fear. The massive ape looked around at them, eyes narrowed and glowing blood red. Everyone was tense, and no one moved. He seemed to be thinking about them, before eventually looking down at the crown in his hand. He put the crown on its middle finger. Than,with unexpected speed for his size he reached out and grabbed Bulma around the middle.

Shouts of alarm from the royal family told her this wasn’t supposed to happen. Panic and fear muddled together to form a thick cloud in her mind. 

Bulma in hand, The huge ape took a seat on the dias, just in front of the throne, and with his free hand, he picked up the barely conscious form of Vegeta’s father. 

Gine clutched her hands together against her breast, as if in prayer. There was a moment while the ape just looked at the broken bodied man, before he set him down, off the dias, next to Gine- who let out a sob of relief and pulled her husband into her arms. He collapsed against her. 

 

Bulma looked from the family on the ground, to the apes massive face.  
“Vegeta!” She shouted, drawing the red eyes to her. “Put me down!” She demanded, and when he didn’t immediately do as she asked, she pointed at him and added. “NOW!”

Somehow, the apes face managed to look a little guilty, and he set her down on his lap. Bulma looked to the family, again to see if this was good- but they all just stared nervously at them- waiting for something to happen. But what? 

Vegeta looked around, either confused, or enjoying the height- Bulma couldn’t tell. She let herself slide down his leg, and off his lap to go join his family, but he just picked her up again and sat her on his knee again.

She glared at him. He frowned and looked a little offended, but this time kept a massive hand cupped around her like a wall to keep her in place while he looked around on the floor for something. What, Bulma didn’t know. But she watched as he felt around the ground with his giant hand. 

Nothing was there, nothing that Bulma could see anyway. Vegeta seemed to realize this, with some dismay because he sighed in a way that, to Bulma looked rather immature. But, he was an ape and were apes known for being mature?  
“What are you looking for?” She asked to an angry shouts from the royal family. “What?” Bulma asked, frowning. 

“You can’t help him! Just hush!” Fasha yelled furiously. Bulma felt that was something of an overreaction. Vegeta looked at Bulma, and seemed to notice the crown on his finger. With a light in his eyes like realization, he plucked it off his finger, and set it on his head. It disappeared into the thick brown fur on the top of his head. 

There was a loud cheer from the family, and Bulma wondered if this meant he’d passed the test? Whatever it was. Her head still swimming with fear, she looked up at the great ape. 

He was shrinking. Slowly, but steadily he shrank down, his long snout was pushing back into his face and the fur fell from his skin as if it had just been sitting there rather than attached like normal fur. 

With each new moment he looked more and more human, the hand that had been like a wall keeping her on his knee shrank until it fit tucked into her waist, and held her close as brown fur trickled to the floor around them like falling leafs. Vegeta sat where the Ape once had. Bulma stared at him, still not sure of what she’d seen. 

He was very bloodied looking. His left eye was almost swollen shut it, while blood trickled from his scalp and the shadow of what looked to be terrible bruises covered his bare chest, and his right arm bent out at an odd angle- yet despite this, he looked pleased. Proud. He pushed up off the hard stone Dias, leaving Bulma where she’d landed as he shrank. 

With a stoic, proud face he turned and shuffled towards the throne, pausing only to pick up the crown that had fallen off his head as he shrank. He placed it upon his own head and sat in the largest throne in the middle of the raised dias. Behind him, the moon vanished behind a cloud and did not reappear. 

Bulma thought he’d more fallen into the chair than sat down properly, and realized that now would be the perfect time to heal him, and his father. 

So, she did. Healing Vegeta first, then turning to the nearly unconscious man in Gine’s arms and healing him too. As the bruises and cuts vanished from his body, Vegeta held a fist in the air. The rest of the royal family mimicked him, even his father got to his feet, now fully healed and shoved his fist into the air. 

Vegeta’s eyes still had that faintly red glow to them. Bulma, did not shove her fist into the air. She didn’t even think too, because Vegeta stood up and his family rushed to him. 

“That was close!” Goku said, proudly thumping Vegeta on the back. 

“Oh yes! It was almost too close- when you grabbed Bulma like that- ohhh i thought you were going to forget yourself!” Gine hissed, faintly. “But you didn’t! You didn’t forget yourself, Vegeta!” She pushed past the others and threw her arms triumphantly around him. 

“You didn’t let me win?” Vegeta asked, looking over his mother's shoulders at his father, who shook his head. ‘No.’ 

“You’ll be a good king, Vegeta.” GOku said happily, and thumped his brother on the back again, while Gine continued to hug him and sob. 

Buma scarcely understood what was going on. But one thing was for sure. Vegetabilis, was real. Or, he at least had been. And their god- she was real too. She must be, how else could Bulma explain what she’d seen. A little flare of panic filled her- she’d been lying about a gods gift. True, they all knew now that it wasn’t a gift from their god- but if she was real…. the little flare of panic filled Bulma so deeply that she wanted to run from the throne room and to the nearest place of worship and throw herself down and beg god for forgiveness. 

But she stayed, and when Gine parted from Vegeta, she stepped forward and hugged him around the neck to show him that she was proud too, despite not really knowing what she was supposed to be proud of.

Later that evening, people gathered from every nook of the castle to beam proudly at Vegeta. The new king. Bards made way around the city and off to the farthest regions of the north to spread the good news.

Bulma imagined what that message must sound like, and tried not to laugh. “Vegeta has a new king! Vegeta, son of Vegeta will now replace Vegeta on the throne of Vegeta, and be named King Vegeta!” She imagined this, a bunch of strong proud looking northern lords nodding their approval and looking derious, and laughed. 

Vegeta, the new King seemed to think Bulma was laughing for joy, and snaked his arm around her waist, and pulled her into a triumphant kiss.  
“I have so many questions.” She whispered as they parted. “Nothing in any of the books about the coronation said anything about-”

“It’s not written. It can never be written.” Vegeta said, as if she were rather silly for suggesting it would be in a book. “I’ll explain later.” 

The rest of the evening was taken up by a huge feast, in which everyone celebrated the new King. Bulma thought Vegeta Sr looked rather too happy for someone who’d lost a battle, but he was beaming proudly at his son, his arm around Gine. Maybe he was happy to retire. Maybe he was pleased to be free of work and responsibilities.

She didn’t know, but she was relieved at the very least that he wasn’t glaring at her anymore. She had so many questions though, about the huge beast and how it was summoned, but she knew now wouldn’t be the time to ask. She’d wait, until she was alone with Vegeta, which- she had hoped would happen after the feast. 

But there was no “after” the feast, that evening. As the feast went well on past the evening and well into the morning. Eventually, as the moon began lowering itself in the sky, Bulma gave up waiting and just went to bed, thinking she would talk to Vegeta in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Hail King Vegeta!
> 
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	14. Into the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta travel south.

Bulma’s path towards her bedroom was interrupted by Fasha, who called for her to wait as she ran to catch up with her. 

“Fasha!” She greeted, smiling fondly at the spunky young woman, who ran towards her, her cheeks flushed. 

“Princesses- You- Did you see outside? The weather is- it’s just perfect- you should-” She doubled over to catch her breath. “You should leave. Tonight. With my brother, and Unus.” She nodded towards the silent woman standing just behind Bulma. 

“What? Why?” Bulma looked towards the nearest window and saw only darkness there. 

“It’s foggy! There’s a storm rolling in, and the fog is incredibly thick! If you leave now, you’ll be protected by the fog. No one will see you! I checked with the maesters, and they tell me this fog will roll all the way down to the southern border. You can just keep pace with it- and then you won’t have to worry about archers or anything. Especially if you get high enough up- and no one will know because you didn’t plan it!” 

Bulma thought back to her plan, to smuggle herself out with Vegeta disguised- but Fasha had a point. She had a very, very good point. Since their plan was last minute, no one would be able to organize any assault- her only fear was Ember. Was he strong enough yet to fly them? 

_“Sure. fuck it. I miss the south. Fuck it, let’s go.”_ Ember thought, his voice in her mind making her jump. She’d thought he was still asleep. _“I woke up while the king was -huh- furry- and I’ve just been listening in. I’m still tired, but i can carry you three okay.”_ He insisted. _“If it means getting home in a hurry, I’m for it.”_

“Well-” Bulma said, feeling very put on the spot. It was a good idea though. It was a brilliant idea. So brilliant, that she couldn’t think of a logical reason not to do it. Except that she worried about actually being able to get home- what if they flew too fast and lost the cover of the fog- what if Ember was too exhausted to actually get them home?

_I told the prince. He’s coming, so stop worrying and let’s go._ ” Ember thought, impatiently. Feeling annoyed at being bossed around like this, Bulma turned and ran towards the courtyard. Fasha shouted orders at some handmaids, who ran to comply.

She ran up to Ember, and hugged him. His flames were back to their usual livelihood. She’d only just closed her arms around his neck when Vegeta came up behind her, and touched her back. She turned to him. They haven't spoken since his coronation. She had so much to ask him and yet…

There was no time. He leaned closer to her- for a moment she thought for a kiss- but he was just grabbing her hips, and lifting her onto Embers back. She swung her leg around. It was too long a flight to bother with sitting side saddle, and Vegeta climbed on behind her, shortly followed by Unus- who’d shed her full plate armor to save Ember the weight. 

“Princess! Princ- King!” Called a handmaid- she ran across the courtyard to them, and held out thick fur cloaks- and three soft pelts. Some of the ones gifted to Bulma. 

Since the handmaid had no way of knowing that Ember’s back was warm, and pleasant no matter how high or fast he flew. So she didn’t say anything, but gratefully took the pelt, and cloak and wrapped both around her shoulders. Vegeta and Usus did the same. Next thing she knew, Vegeta was wrapping his arms around her waist, and Ember was beating his massive wings and carrying them into the sky. 

As they climbed higher, the icy fog whizzed past them. Before long, they couldn’t even see the ground. It was like drifting through a never ending sea of dark grey, until finally the fog thinned and they burst above it into clear moon lit sky. 

Vegeta was holding rather tightly to Bulma, and she suspected it wasn’t out of affection for her. Below them the fog looked like fluffy rolling clouds that promised to be the texture and feel of soft cotton. Unlike the icy cold wet it really was. 

Vegeta, seemed to hate flying. Bulma expected his grip to loosen over time but it never did. He held to her so tightly that she wondered if his plan was to take her with him if he fell off, so that she could theoretically heal both of them if they fell- but from this height there would be no chance either of them would survive such a fall. And she couldn’t see Vegeta acting so selfishly. 

But he held fast, and Bulma could only imagine that behind Vegeta, Usus was holding to him as well. She looked behind herself, but could only see Vegeta’s broad shoulder. She tried to turn enough to meet his eye, but he seemed to be pressing his face against her, so she couldn’t. And the wind was far too loud in their ears for her to speak to him. 

At a loss for anything else to do, she put her hand on top of his, and squeezed it reassuringly. His head bobbed against her. A little while later, Ember spoke up. 

_Goku is down there- should we land and see him?”_ Ember thought, his voice in their heads clear and loud despite the wind. 

Bulma didn’t know. She wished she could hear what the others were thinking, like he could.   
“Why is here out here?” 

_He took off right after the coronation, apparently. He’s gone to try and save Chi-chi.”_ ember explained. 

“Could you carry him?” Bulma asked. “And us?” There was a pause while he listened to the others. 

_‘No. And Vegeta insists that Goku is well equipped to take care of himself.’_

“I don’t like this. I don’t like leaving him when Chi-chi needs him.” Bulma thought, ruefully. 

_’ Vegeta doesn’t like it either, but you two are the ones most likely to be targeted by the Cold’s, and I can’t carry him anyway so… I think we should just keep moving._ Ember insisted. Bulma sighed, and agreed. 

Goku was invisible to them, up here in the fog. But knowing he was down there made Bulma’s neck prickle with worry. But there was nothing they could do. Really, nothing. Except travel on foot with him, which would only endanger them. 

_Unus wants me to land so she can travel with Goku and protect him._ Ember said after a few moments. Bulma was startled by that, and turned to look at Unus- but as no one had moved she still couldn’t see her through Vegeta’s shoulder. 

‘Does she really want to protect him, or does she want away from me and Vegeta?” Bulma asked, cooly. 

“Both. She knows you’re safe with me, but she wants to protect Goku too. She fancies herself a hero, you know. And she is. Bulma, I know you’re so angry with her you can’t feel too sad for her right now- but imagine how painful it is for her to be with you two. I’m landing. He explained, and slowly, they bagan to turn around, and fly towards the ground in a wide spiral. The fog was thick here. It was so opaque that Bulma was actually startled when Ember touched ground. 

Unus slid off his back at once. 

“You’ve got no armor!” Bulma hissed at her, while Vegeta slid off his back too- apparently grateful to be on the ground. He leaned on a tree and took deep breaths to calm himself. 

“And? I’ve still got my blade.” She snapped back. 

“This is insane! What if-” 

“Than I die with honor!” She said indignantly and turned her back to Bulma. Vegeta looked uncomfortable to be here, despite his relief to be on the ground and tried rather hard to blend in to the trees while the two women argued. 

_“Goku is approaching. He sees my flames.”_ Ember warned them, and they all stopped to look around the thick fog, until Goku emerged, heavily bundled and looking confused. 

“Ember explained what’s going on. Unus, I don’t need a guard.” Goku said right away. 

“You do. You’re all alone. And, if I come with you i can pose as your wife and it’ll make your erm-” Her eyes raked up Goku’s frame, taking in the odd clothes and make-shift face covering. “...disguise, more believable. And I can help you save Chi-chi.” 

That seemed to shut Goku up. His desire to save her was such that he would even accept help from someone, and put that person in danger to do it.   
“Alright.” He agreed. Vegeta pulled the extra pelts the handmaid had given them off Ember’s back and dropped them in Unus’ arms. “So you won’t freeze.” He explained. 

“Vegeta, get there in one piece. Okay?” Goku said- and there was such vulnerability in his voice that Bulma actually looked away from the two brothers to give them some privacy. She heard a thud, and some patting sounds that made her look up to see the brothers embracing and slapping one another hard on the back. 

“I will. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re going on a much more dangerous trip than I am.” Vegeta said with the air of someone trying to be light hearted. He climbed back up onto Ember, and looped his arms around Bulma’s waist again. 

“I’ll be fine. You know me! I’m always fine.” Goku chuckled, and so did Vegeta. It was true that the man somehow always seemed to get out of things unschathed. 

“Fine. Be careful anyway. Okay?” Vegeta said, smirking as Ember beat his massive wings to take off. “Oh, and Goku-” Vegeta said when Ember’s hooves left the ground. “Thanks for waiting for my coronation to leave.”

Ember carried them higher, and just before the fog closed around them, Bulma caught a glimpse of Goku, looking determined and proud while he bowed, as one would to their king. Bulma looked frantically for Unus, wanting one last glimpse of her- but she had turned away from them. 

The next several hours of flying were dull and uncomfortable. Normally Bulma could ride Ember easily and quite comfortably, but today with Vegeta clinging to her for dear life it felt more like there was a huge rock on her back, making her grip Ember’s soft fur so tightly that her knuckles turned white. 

 

Eventually the they out flew the fog as they soared over the boarder and into the south. It was a dramatic difference. Slowly the air whizzing past went from cool and crisp to warm and pleasant, and they could see the ground. Worried this would make the flying more uncomfortable for Vegeta, Bulma patted his arm comfortingly, but he didn’t loosen his grip. 

Ember carried them through the night, until they passed over the Great Valley of the North with it’s soft rolling hills and curved cottages and wide peaceful farmlands. Bulma found the name of the place rather silly now, as it wasn’t very far north at all. It was in fact, decidedly south. With its comfortable green grass this far into winter. She couldn’t see the cattle, but she was sure they were there. Lazily grazing on the always green passtures. Rivers snaked through the land like a spider web, making it some of the most fertile farmland this side of the world. 

_‘I need to rest’_ Ember thought. 

‘Okay. In woods than. Where we can hide until this evening. We’re far enough south now that- if the letters from Roshi were correct we should be safe.’ Bulma thought, and Ember began to slowly descend, pointing towards the nearest patch of tall gnarled looking trees. 

As soon as they landed, Ember got to his knees- and it wasn’t just to make it easier for Bulma and Vegeta to climb off. He laid his head down with little concern for the softness of the earth, and was asleep almost at once. Vegeta, a little bow legged, began gathering firewood. 

“That’s a bad idea, I think.” Bulma said when she realized what he was doing. “I think we should probably avoid building a fire. If someone saw the smoke they might come looking. At best it would be locals, and knowing we were here would only endanger them. Or, at worst it could be King Cold’s spys, or men or- something.” She shrugged.

Vegeta tossed the wood back to the hard earth and shrugged. “I thought Ember would like a fire.” He said a little defensively. Bulma looked them both over, healing them. Vegeta stood up a little straighter. He was definitely used to riding horseback, she thought. He must have just been tense from the height- but he never complained. 

“Thank you, he probably would but it’s too dangerous now. You had a big night- so why don’t you rest, and I’ll stand watch.” She gestured to the spot of ground by Ember. Vegeta looked at it, shrugged and nodded sort of reluctantly. For him to accept so easily rather than doing the chivalrous thing, Bulma figured he must be exhausted. 

“Okay. I’ll take the next watch.” He decided, and laid out the only fur pelt they kept, and snuggled up beside Ember. His fire was still rather bright, and warm. Bulma wondered if Ember enjoyed their body heat as well. 

The next several hours were very dull. Bulma sat next to them with the side of her thigh pressed against Vegeta, staring off into the trees, and drawing on the dirt with a stick while she waited. Some time later, Vegeta shifted and rest his head on her lap, his arms around her waist while he slept. She ran her fingers through his hair.   
Slowly the little patch of sun that made it through the thick canopy began inching its way across the ground. Bulma contemplated waking Vegeta when it touched the fallen branch, but it got there too quickly, so she waited for it to get to the rock- and when it reached it also too soon she decided to just wait for him to wake up on his own. 

The sun was high in the sky when she felt him stir on her lap. She looked down at him. He smiled sleepily up at her and pushed himself into a sitting position. 

“You let me sleep too long. You go ahead and rest now.” He gestured to the spot he’d just vacated, and with a tired smile, and a kiss on the cheek she laid down, and let herself doze off. 

It felt like just a few minutes later when Vegeta was shaking her awake. She started and rolled over- only to find the forest much darker than it had been when she’d laid down.   
“Hey, we need to leave soon.” Vegeta said, with an air of forced lightness. Bulma sat up, feeling rather awful. Everything was sore- so she healed herself, and Vegeta again while she was at it. It helped, but there was little to be done about stiffness.   
_I’m feeling better. You?’_ Ember asked, with a hint of humor in his voice. Bulma and Vegeta scowled at him. Only now that she was awake properly did she realize how hungry she was. She knew that Vegeta must have been as or more hungry than she was. They still hadn't had time to talk about the ape- and what it meant. She could only imagine something like that would work up an appetite though. 

“We should get there by morning.” She said, more to herself than to the others. “So we’ll be okay.” She licked her dry mouth. “We just need water, in the meantime.” She pushed to her feet and swayed a little. 

There was a river just down the hill, so the three of them snuck down and had a drink before flying off into the clear night sky. Bulma kept her eyes peeled for danger, but Ember had a wide range for his telepathy so she knew if anyone was thinking of attacking them, or if anyone saw them- he’d hear it and warn them. 

This night was less comfortable even than the last. Vegeta didn’t like flying, that much was obvious from how tightly he held Bulma- but now they were hungry on top of it, and it did nothing to better her mood. Her stomach swam uncomfortably. Shifting between being ravenously hungry and completely nauseous, and vegeta squeezing her stomach wasn’t helping. 

All in all, at the end of the night she was quite glad to see the castles domed ceilings come into view in the distance. She almost cried out with joy- but than a thrill of terror ran through her. What if everything was still terrible? What if the Colds were there and it was a tr-

_“I can hear Krillin.”_ Ember said, cooly. _things are fine. I’m letting him know we’re here now. Breathe._ And- she did. She relaxed and leaned closer to his neck as they bagan soaring at a gentle slope towards the ground. 

Bulma was so excited to see her home again, that she didn’t know where to look first. The Kings city of the Isle of life was a beautiful lush place. Tall buildings with ornate gold, and glass domes to top them peppered the city. Rivers snaked through the town like like a crack on a glass. The streets were made of lovely white polished stone, while pink leafed trees dotted the landscape. 

The castle itself was a stunning sight. It sat atop the hill alongside the largest river, overlooking the water, and the town. It was a many layered, sprawling beauty with huge glass dome ceilings. It seemed to be built out of polished light stone with white marble accents. Large inviting balconies littered the outside- it looked rather like a very beautiful maze.

 

Ember seemed to be taking them to the balcony of her father’s room- where she spotted Krillin waiting, his white cape billowing behind him as he beamed up at them.

Bulma was so happy to see him that as soon as Ember landed- she slid off him and threw her arms around her old friend without getting a proper look at him. He was a short man, so when she hugged him she ended up crushing his head against her chest. 

“Princess!” He cried, his voice muffled by her bosom. She eased up, and pulled back- her eyes wet.   
“I’m so relieved you’re okay, Krillin. I don’t know what would have happened if I’d lost you.” She hugged him again- this time bending over a bit so that her shoulder pressed into his face rather than her chest. She pulled back, and wiped her face on the back of her hand. 

“Oh! Krillin- this is P-” She stepped away from him and gestured to Vegeta, but stopped as her lips formed the P sound, and looked to the nobel Saiyan, and smiled widely. “King, Vegeta of the North.” She said proudly. 

Vegeta’s brow twitched at her introduction, and he nodded politely to Krillin, who bowed low. 

“You’re the new king, than. Sire?” Krillin asked. “Last we heard, it was still your father.” Krillin added hastily. 

“Yes. My coronation was the day before yesterday.” Vegeta crossed his arms and looked around the lovely white marbled balcony. 

“Congratulations, Sire.” Krillin said politely. “And welcome to the Isle of Life.” He bowed again, and turned back to Bulma. 

“Speaking of, princess. We’ve got two massive ceremonies to arrange. Your coronation, and- firstly- since you’re home in time- your fathers-”

“Yes.” Bulma cut him off. “I know. Yes. Of course. First, though- Krillin, Is everyone okay?”

“No.” Krillin said hesitantly. “We lost a lot of people, and many need to be healed, but right now everyone is stable.” 

“Okay. Than, for now we need food. And rest. In the morning I’ll heal everyone.” Bulma explained, and pulled the fur cloak off her shoulders. It was too warm here for fur. Krillin stepped aside and Bulma lead the way through the high elegant archway, and into the Castle. 

It was good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Krillin is here!!!
> 
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	15. Ghosts of the South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta and Bulma arrive in the South.

Vegeta

The South. At last. Vegeta had longed to be here so much that he almost couldn’t believe he was actually here now. Despite all their careful planning for a slow, safe trip- they were here. In just days. It almost didn’t feel real.

This place was so warm and welcoming. Even the air smelled sweet. Bright warm sun peaked at them from the horizon, despite the still glowing moon above them. It seemed as if everywhere he looked there was a pleasant pop of color, from the pink trees, to the brightly painted blue and yellow doors of the towns homes.

He was reluctant to follow Bulma inside as she lead him into a set of very grand rooms. However as soon as he was inside, the pull of the ape eased as he was free of direct moonlight. It was such a relief, that he could look around and properly enjoy the beauty of the south, though his back ached from the new addition of a tail wrapped carefully around his waist, under his many layers. 

Now wasn’t the time, but soon he would have to tell Bulma what the transformation had meant for him. How it had forever changed him.

The ceilings were high and arched, while plush rugs sat underfoot. A huge bed with a thin white canopy around it dominated the room- but Bulma didn’t linger here. In fact she seemed eager to be out of these rooms, because she lead him through them, into an open corridor with more high ceilings and elegant archways. He looked out at the river below and the lovely foliage along it’s shores. 

The architecture was so different from what he’d known that it actually hurt his head a bit to take in all this new information. It was as if whoever built this place had never once felt cold in their life. He hardly noticed where she was leading him, as they turned away from the open corridor into another, and another until he was very sure he would never have been able to find his way back to the big rooms they’d first entered. 

They finally stopped in what had to be some sort of lounge. It was a beautiful, small, many windowed room stuffed with overly plush looking chaise lounges and chairs. The pillars framing the door were adorned with skillfully painted carvings of vines and flowers. The sole table in the room was piled high with fresh fruit and many tiered plates carrying delicate, pastel colored pastries. The many windows gave way to a grand view of the beautiful river on one side, and the town on the other.

Bulma plucked a cream topped pouf of some sort off the top of the many tiered dish and began eating as she gracefully fell into a pillow covered chaise. Curious, he looked over the offering of fresh fruit and sweets and had a bite of a small jelly like yellow square. It was a burst of sweet and tart lemon flavoring, like a thick custard with a delicious flaky crust on the bottom. He sank into a plush chair, and melted. 

They didn’t speak for a few minutes. They just ate. Vegeta was delighted by the array of fresh fruits and kept scooping up handfuls of blueberries and dumping them into his mouth. Each little sphere burst with flavor when he bite down on them. He was so enamored with the bright flavors that he forgot about conversation completely. 

He hardly noticed the small parade of servants bringing in more food. Soon, the sweets were pushed aside and there was a whole other host of savory treats- from perfectly spiced salmon served on crackers, to cold soups, and pastas with fresh tomato sauce. At some point, smoked lamb appeared and Vegeta ate, and ate until he felt light headed. Lamb, he decided. Was his favorite food. Especially when they served it with those salty little fish and berries baked into the skin. 

When he looked up, Bulma was smirking knowingly at him. 

“What?” He asked defensively. 

“You enjoying the food?” She asked with a barely contained giggle. 

Without shame, he nodded and took a fresh bright red strawberry and plucked it into his mouth. 

“Mm. Those are my favorite.” Bulma mused, and took one as well. 

 

After the meal, they were whisked off to put on some southern clothing.   
“We should rest first.” Vegeta complained as they were lead through the maze like castle again. With a full stomach, it was even more difficult to keep his eyes open. 

“I know, but we need to address the people and I’ve- I’ve a lot to do.” When no one was looking, Bulma slipped her hand into his and squeezed it gently. He squeezed it back, and smiled reassuringly at her. 

Vegeta and Bulma were dressed in separate rooms. A disgruntled looking man measured him. “It’s an honor to dress you! Sire! I simply wish i’d had more time to put something together that was more- worthy, of you!” He bustled and ran around Vegeta in circles with his measuring tape. 

“Oh! Sir, pardon but in the north- men aren’t expected to remain - erm- Virginal, before marraige are they?” 

“No.” Vegeta scoffed. 

“Very good! Blue than, I think!” And with that, he was having his help drag in rolls of blue fabric. They attempted to dress him, but he held up a hand and insisted on dressing himself, else they see his new tail.

In the end, he was dressed in a the typical southern style of draped silks, held on by pins at the shoulder, and a belt around the waist. The hem of these elegantly draped silks stopped just at his knee, which he noted was the typical style for the men. They had carefully draped his toga over one shoulder, and the belt they fixed on him was of gold and leather. While very fine looking, it was simple and it held his sword well enough. 

The problem was that this southern toga was so lightweight he felt almost naked. It was almost too light. He felt like if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up flashing his genitals to some lucky but unsuspecting handmaid- though they weren’t called handmaid's here, he supposed.

Bulma entered without warning, and smiled up at him. She was also wearing draped silks, though hers were deepest black, pinned at both shoulders and hung to the ground. Her shoulder pins, and her belt were finely crafted golden mesh. And the way the fabric draped off her breasts and hips made Vegeta glade for this loose toga, that adequately hid how he was feeling. 

“The southern style certainly suits you.” He said, smirking at her as she approached him with an outstretched hand. He took it, and kissed it before stepping off the small stool, and following her out of the cluttered fitting room. 

“Thank you.” She breathed. “I wish we could go to bed- but there’s so much to do.” 

And she hadn’t been joking. Krillin joined them again, this time followed by another bald man. This one very tall, with a third eye tattooed on his forehead. Vegeta made a mental note to ask him about it later, once he was sure doing so wouldn’t be offensive.

First, Bulma gave a short speech to the people of her capitol city. Announcing her own safety, and well being while promising revenge on the colds. Then she said a bit about her father and all those who died when the Colds attacked. She swore revenge yet again, and promised them all her fathers funeral would be held the day after tomorrow, starting in the throne room and ending at the grand temple, and that all who loved him may attend. 

While she spoke, Vegeta looked down at the many faces looking up at them. Every face was pointed at Bulma. Every eye filled with resolute determination, or pure unashamed grief. These people were all rather thin, he thought. Beautiful, but too thin. Hardly any of the men had any real muscle. They all wore draped fabrics as well, in various colors. The men all had short hair, while the women all had long hair, artfully piled on their heads in a vague cone shape. There were so many of them. So many that he hardly believed they’d all fit inside any temple for a funeral. 

“That’s… a lot of people.” Vegeta pointed out when Bulma finished her speech. “How grand is this temple?” 

“It’s fairly big, but most will have to sit outside. They’ll still feel a part of it though.” She explained, looking more tired now than she had all day. 

The rest of the very long day was spent in a blur of planning. Person after person came to Bulma and presented her with questions. What foods should they serve at the reception? What flowers should they bring? What will she be wearing? What will silks would they put her father in? What path would the carriage with his coffin take to the grand temple? Would it be a traditional ceremony? Would the kings estranged brother be allowed to attend? 

At least this was all happening during daylight, when the ape wouldn’t be pressing as much to burst free. He knew if he was forced to stay awake past sundown, he wouldn’t have the energy to keep the beast inside. He was almost too tired to care about this though. 

With each new question, and each new decision she made, Bulma looked more and more tired. Each new decision seemed to take something out of her. Vegeta put a hand on her shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze as a short wheezy man ran off with a stack of papers. She returned his smile, sleepily.

As they headed back to the lounge, blessedly alone Bulma paused by the library and ran her hand over the carved wooden door. Vegeta frowned at her. “It’s all very odd.” She muttered. “This place is as beautiful as ever. You would never know… that something so terrible happened here.” 

Vegeta still didn’t understand, until she looked around the wide all as well. “You’d never know. BEcause that’s how the gas works. It kills everyone and does no harm to things, and walls. To weapons, and armor. To well fortified castles.” She mused. And now, Vegeta understood why she was acting so oddly.

 

Dinner was a quiet, private affair in the same plushly furnished lounge as earlier. Bulma told Vegeta that he could go to bed if he wished. “I’ll be up all night, and you made enough of an appearance to look supportive so it’ll look good when we announce the merger.” She explained. “No one expects you to stay up with me.” It was a tempting offer.

“You’re done for the day, Bulma. Tell the staff to wait with these questions until morning.”

“I need to do a lot more before bed though. Some things take days to finnish and we need to give the craftsmen as much time as possible.” She pointed out, and poked at a strawberry without taking it. 

“What can’t wait until tomorrow?” Vegeta demanded, and Bulma fell silent. “Exactly.” 

“I’ll just- send the bards out, and have them announce that everyone who died at the attack will be honored, right alongside my father at the funeral. They’ll be given a hero’s send off. So they can… prepare.” 

“Okay, then do that- and then we go to bed.” Vegeta insisted. Bulma, despite her tiredness, smirked at him. 

“We?” 

“Yes, we. I want to share a bed with you tonight.” He said- than as if he’d said something dirty or fowl a handmaid- he still didn’t know if they were actually called that here- gasphed and dropped a plate. Bulma laughed loudly.

“Oh, Vegeta- you are funny.” She kicked him under the table, and watched as the girl scurried to clean up the plate shards and rushed out of the room. When they were alone, she spoke again.   
“Why? We’ve never- we’ve never shared a bed. Why now?” 

“Because…” And Vegeta realized that he hadn’t really known why he wanted to so badly. But he knew now. “It’s your first night back in the place your father was murdered, and I don’t want to leave you alone.” He said softly. When he looked up at Bulma, her eyes were swimming with tears.

“Thank you, Vegeta. It’s not worth the risk. If anyone saw us…” She shook her head. “It would ruin everything. I can’t actually be with a man before I’m wed, or I would be seen as unworthy to rule.” She took a small bite of the strawberry she had been poking, and got to her feet.

“I’ll stay with you.” Vegeta said as he too got to his feet and followed her from the room. “So, for my sake you’d better hurry up.” She tossed him a puzzled look, but nodded.

After another three painful hours of stupid details Bulma declared they would actually be able to go to bed. She escorted Vegeta to the rooms that would be his, and found them quit as grand as hers, with poufs, and overly padded chair set around a short legged table, and a massive bed with sheer cotton hangings surrounding it. 

“The squire will tuck the hangings once you’re in bed, and I suggest you let him.” Bulma warned. “When you were here before, it was an oddly cold winter. Now, there will be bugs, and while there aren’t any in this area that would have a deadly bite, they can hurt rather a lot.” She ushered forward a black haired youth. 

“This is Cabba. He’ll be your squire.” Vegeta raised a brow at the boy. His name sounded familiar. Seeing his curious expression Bulma answered the unasked question. “He’s Lord Paragus’ son.” 

“Ah, the Saiyan ambassador to the Isle of life.” He mused, and looked the skinny boy over, skeptical.   
“Sadly, Cabba and I have a lot in common now.” Bulma said and stroked the boys head kindly, making him flush and stare at the ground. “We’re both orphans now. His father, and mother died when the colds attacked the castle.” 

“I want to serve you! My king!” The boy bowed, in the northern way, clapping his left fist against his right shoulder- but it was clumsy. Vegeta realized with a start that Cabba- had never been in the North. Never seen his own home. “I want to assist you my king, and the Princess Bulma in destroying the Colds so I can avenge my father.” 

Impressed by his guts, Vegeta smirked and nodded once to him.   
“Alright. Start with getting me a hot bath, and than preparing my-” He looked over at bed, the hangings were drawn and the blankets were already folded over welcomingly. 

“Yes, sire!” Cabba said right away, and turned on his heel to run off down the corridor. 

“He’ll also be able to guide you around the castle so you don’t get lost.” Bulma explained. “I hope you don’t mind. He wanted to serve you so badly.” 

“He’s fine. Speaking of Paragus- have you word of his other son?” Vegeta asked. 

“No, I heard he’d joined the northern army. I haven’t heard of where he is, but last I spoke to Paragus he bragged about how well he was doing.Why?” 

Vegeta shrugged. “Heard he was pretty strong. Thank you, and good night princess.” He bowed, and Bulma bit her lip and covered her mouth with her hand. 

“What?” 

“Toga’s a bit short for such a low bow, don’t you think? You’re a King now. Vegeta. You out rank me, even if you are a guest.” 

Flushing, he stood up straight and counted his blessings that his butt had been pointed at a empty room. 

Bulma bid him goodnight, curtsied, politely and left with a small parade of servants on her tail, and Krillin- sword hilt gleaming in the torch light. Vegeta closed the door, and went to sit on his little balcony and look over the beautiful river- but the sun was setting, and he didn’t dare risk direct moonlight while this tired. So, he went around the room closing the curtains tightly. 

It struck him how very open this castle was. No wonder the Colds attacked it with gas. He couldn’t help think that it would have been painfully easy. They would just crouch along the shore, and shoot the gas bombs in through the many open windows. In the north, such an attack would be far less effective. Every room and every door was sealed tight from the cold outside air, while here they welcome the breese and fresh smell of those pink trees into their rooms. 

Part of him calmed when he realized that the guards must have some sort of patrol set up to defend the castle. And as he thought it- he saw it was true. Peering across the river as he closed the last curtain, he saw on the opposite bank guards patrolling, and he doubted very much this river was open to anyone who decided to ride down stream. 

Behind him, Cabba ran in, with a few other boys hauling a huge copper lined tub, and buckets of hot water. It was apparently so hot they had to use protective gloves to carry them.

Eventually, it was full and they set a table beside it with an array of soaps for him to use. 

He almost fell asleep in the bath it was so relaxing, though he thought longingly of the hotspring at home. It was impossibly hard to force himself to wash properly. His tired limbs felt like weights. When he was clean, he climbed out of the tub, toweled off haphazardly, and went to bed in the nude. 

As he lay sleeping, vaguely noted Cabba tucking the cotton hangings under the mattress so the bugs wouldn’t get in before he drifted into sweet blissful nothingness. 

\---

Bulma

Bulma woke the following morning to her new lady in waiting pulling the hangings from around her bed. 

“Good Morning, Princess! Did you sleep well?” She asked cheerfully. 

Bulma glared at her. She had very much forgotten how rigid the schedule of her castle had been. So much that her own staff were waking her while the sun was barely up. Reluctantly, Bulma sat up and pushed her messy hair out of her face to take a look at the girl. Her new lady-in-waiting. She was a curvy, yet muscled young woman with straight black hair. She curtsied low.   
“You must be…” Bulma tried to think back to last night when she’d been advised to take this girl as her lady in waiting, to remember her name. “Videl, right?” 

“Yes, princess! Thank you for having me. I’m told you had a bath last night, so I’ve just laid out your dress for the day, black, of course. I thought you’d like a privet breakfast so I’ve had the scullions bring your breakfast to your private lounge so you can eat in peace, before tackling the day.” She said cheerfully. Bulma pressed her face into her hands and rubbed in an attempt to wipe away her sleepiness. 

“That’s good. When he’s dressed, please have King Vegeta join me in my lounge.” 

“Yes, Princess.” She curtsied again. “Master Roshi arrived last night, and would like a word. I’ve told him you’ll be available mid morning, is that acceptable?” 

“Yes, yes. Thank you Videl. You’re father- he’s um- Hercule, right?” Bulma tried to remember the man but she couldn’t. She just had a sense of profound dislike when she tried to remember him. She nodded.   
“Yes, princess. My father is _Lord_ Hercule.” She said, gently correcting her. 

“Bulma!” Krillin called from outside. “Are you dressed because I need to speak to you! It’s urgent!” 

Videl turned to glare at the door and began angrily crossing the room towards it.   
“Sir, Krillin I told you that the Princess needed her sleep and-” 

“Fasha-” Bulma groaned and rubbed her face on her hands again. “Videl! I mean. Please let him in.” She said tiredly. 

“Of course, Princess.” She said with forced politeness and opened the door to let the armor clad Krillin in. 

“Yeah hi good morning bows- moving on!” He crossed the room without even a glance at Videl and stopped a few feet away from Bulma, who still sat in bed. 

He opened his mouth to speak, than turned to look at Videl. “Please wait outside.” 

She glared at him, as a lord's daughter and the princess’s lady in waiting Krillin had no authority to remove her from the room- but she politely complied. 

“What’s up?” Bulma asked when they were alone. 

“The people are- eager, to see you. Word is that they’ve heard of your healing powers and they want you to heal the sick- and wounded and they are gathering outside. I know you wanted to finish planning your fathers funeral- but I think you should devote the day to healing the people. If you don’t they might just riot.” He said all this very quietly. 

“But if I delegate planning my own father's funeral the temple elders and many of the people will be displeased with me too. I don’t know, Krillin.” She flopped back down in the bed and sighed. She wanted to heal the people, and make them well- but she also didn’t dare take the risk of just walking amongst them. 

“Have the guards bring me all those injured who would die in the next few days if they weren’t healed. I’ll heal them today, and than finnish planning my father's funeral, and than after tomorrow, I will heal them all until no one in my city has so much as an achy back.” 

Krillin tapped his chin. “Maybe let the high priests handle the religious ceremony parts of the funeral this morning while you heal those near death. That way it’s not lost time, and you’ll still be seen as in charge of the more personal touches.” He suggested. Bulma sat up, and pushed her hair out of her face to smile at him. 

“Yeah. Do that. Tell the high priest that i’d like him to do that, he’ll like feeling important- and than I’ll go heal the near death.” 

“Okay. I’ll have words sent to the priest, and we’ll go collect the sick. You won’t be close enough for them to stab you or anything, just incase it’s a trap. We’ll use the throne room. I’ll send for you when we’re ready.” 

“Thank you, Krillin.” She said again, and reluctantly threw the blankets back and stepped out of bed. Krillin, suddenly red, rushed from the room without another word. Videl came back in and gasphed. 

“Princess! You’re night dress! Did you- did Sir Krillin _see you in that?!”_ She squealed, making Bulma look down. She yelped, and slapped her forehead. In the north, the night dresses had been all thick cotton, for warmth. She’d completely forgotten about the usual sheer, and completely see-through thin fabric of the usual southern night clothes. 

“Yes, Videl he did.” She groaned. 

“What on earth prompted you to show him-”

“I’m used to northern wear, and I’m very tired.” She snapped- and instantly regretted it from the startled look on Videls face. But the girls tone had angered her. She was the Princess, and sitting Queen! “Tell me, did Valese parish in the attack, or is she injured?.” She asked coldly and shuffled over to the chamber pot to empty her bladder before getting dressed. 

“Princess, I’m sorry to say your last Lady in Waiting did parish in the attack.” Videl said, her tone carefully kept between politeness, and sadness.  
“Shame. She was rather good.” Bulma mused, cruelly as she started getting dressed.

Videl tried to help, but after the layers and layers of complet northern clothing, the simplicity of the draped silk dress was a breeze to put on alone, except for the pins at the shoulders. Those needed two hands, and a good angle. Videl helped, but she did so wordlessly. 

Once her hair was combed and styled she was finally able to go to the lounge and eat. Vegeta was already there, wearing blue again and half laying on a pouf while he ate little pieces of grapefruit dipped in sugar. 

“Good morning!” She said, genuinely delighted to see him despite her tiredness. She glanced around at the blue chair in the corner, where her father always sat on the rare occasion he got to join her for a quiet meal, rather than the usual formal affair. It was empty.   
Vegeta smiled fondly at her as he popped a grapefruit piece into his mouth. 

“Good morning.” 

“You’re looking very dashing this morning. I never realized you had such nice calves.” She noted. Vegeta looked down at his own legs with a raised brow. “I’ve got nice everything.” He said with only a hint of humor in his voice. 

“True, and these silks really do show off your arms nicely as well.” She added. It was the first time they’d been alone properly in days now, and would have time to talk. She sat beside him, and reached out to run her hand across his thick bicep. 

He looked from his arm to her with a glimmer in his eye. He sat up and pulled her onto his lap with one strong tug. She let him do this, and settled into his arms. His calloused fingertips brushed her jaw, and they kissed for the first time since he was crowned.

“So, you like grapefruit?” She asked, tasting the bitter juice and sugar on his lips.   
“Mmhm. I like all of this.” He gestured to the tray of fruits and breakfast foods. “This fresh fruit you southerners don’t appreciate.” 

“We do appreciate it.” She scoffed, and took a strawberry. He shrugged.

“You seem to favor those.” He noted. 

“I do. When I was a little girl I wanted to have a pool full of strawberries. It’s ridiculous of course, as princess I could have all I wanted and yet…” She shrugged. “My younger self had many foolish wishes.” 

Vegeta didn’t say anything to that, but he did take one of the red berries for himself and popped it into his mouth and ate it all at once, his cheeks looking like a chipmunks as he did. She giggled. 

“Vegeta, i’ve been wanting to ask you, since the coronation…” She trailed off. It was such a vague and big question. She didn’t know where to start. 

“Yes?” He leaned back against the lounge and pulled her with him, so she lay on his broad chest, his arms looped loosely around her. 

“What- was that? What happened? What was the test? What does that… transformation mean for the future? Can you do it again?” 

He chuckled.   
“I knew you’d have questions. Honestly I was surprised you didn’t start in the moment we landed in the forest.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “The spirit of Vegetabilis lives in all saiyans, but only the king can take his form.” 

“How?” She asked, looking up. “Did you have to do something or-”

“God.” he said simply. “When I beat my father in combat, I waited for the light to strike me. If I hadn’t transformed, or if I had and I’d lost myself to the base instinct and forgotten why I was there- I wouldn’t have been fit to be king.”

“So- you need moonlight to transform?” She asked, looking up at him. “Did it hurt? It sounded like you were in agony.” 

“No, I don’t need moonlight but it does make it easier to transform, and at the same time harder not too.” He admitted. “It was the most pain I’ve ever felt in my life. And, yes. I can control it, though it’s been a struggle. Most new kings avoid direct moonlight for weeks while they get a handle on the ape. But that very night we were on Ember and-”

“That’s why you were so tense! I thought you were afraid of heights but you were trying to control that ape!” She gasped and pushed herself up to get a better look at him. 

“Yeah.” He nodded. She clapped her hand over her mouth. 

“If I had known that! I would never have asked you to leave that night! We could have waited- we could have-”

“No, Fasha was right. Using the fog as cover was our best bet- and i’m glad we got here when we did. You’ll be able to bury your father.” He looked down at her, and she fell silent at mention of the funeral. 

“So- now can you… can you feel him? The ape?” 

“Yes. More at night, but it’s.. Not a bad feeling. I feel stronger. More connected to the First King. I just need to be sure not to lose control at night. Especially in direct moonlight. But if I do need that power- it’s a relief to know it’s there.” 

Bulma looked at him in sheer amazement. “Wow. Kingship suits you.” She leaned down, letting her chest press against his, and kissed him again. “I’m so sorry you had to suffer through two nights of flying like that, when this was so new. Does it hurt? To control the ape?”

“Yes.”

He snaked his arms around her narrow frame and flipped them over, pinning her to the plush chaise and kissed her deeply. She loved this. The feeling of being pinned between the the cushion and him- while his mouth captured hers and his hands found her hips and pushed aside her silks easily to find bare soft breast. 

 

She let out a soft moan that she muffled on his shoulder. 

“God you are soft.” He breathed hungerly and began trying to undo the pins holding her silks closed. 

“We can’t- not now.” She whimpered- her hands finding his and holding them. He exhaled through is nose in annoyance. 

“It also makes me a bit easier to excite.” He explained. She nodded in understanding as he sat up, and pulled her back into his lap. She wriggled as close to him as she could get- and he winced as she hugged his hips with her thighs.   
“You okay?” She asked, and worried she’d pressed against his manhood in a painful way.

“..yes.” He said vaguely. 

“What is it?” She asked, and climbed off his lap, and noted the little tent in his silks. 

“There were… some changes, when I became king.” He eyed her weirly. “Physical, changes.”   
Horror struck her- did he now have an apes manhood? She paled and looked back down at his groin.   
“Did-”  
“I’ve not got…” He sighed, and stood up. From beneath the hem of his toga came a long, brow furry-  
 _“Tail?!”_ She gasped, and clapped her hand over her mouth. He nodded and continued eyeing her. She was so shocked she didn’t notice his worried gaze on her. 

“Oh! Oh no!” She gasped. “And it hurts whenever anyone touches it? Will it always hurt like that? Oh Vegeta i’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you- Is there anything we can do to ease the pain?” 

She looked up at him, and found him staring at her, wide eyed.   
“...what?”   
“You mean to tell me, the thing you’re worried about… is how much pain i’m in?” He said in disbelief. “You’re not at all repulsed by it? By me having a furry, long tail?” 

“What? No… I mean, I’m not exactly turned on by it but it’s not gross or anything- why? Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“What? No! I mean, yeah it’s a little sore right now. My spine just got several feet longer I can’t imagine this is unusual, but my father told me it would stop aching in a few weeks- but that it would always be a little sensitive, and if anyone squeezed it…” He trailed off and shook his head in sheer disbelief at Bulma. 

“What happens if someone squeezes it?” She asked, her eyed flicking down to look at the swishing tail. 

“I get sort of.. Paralyzed for a moment. I used to do it to my father as a child all the time. I thought it was funny to see him go all stiff and than fall over. He always wore it around his waist, where it couldn’t be grabbed in battle- so I’m not worried about that- but it is a secret. We don’t share this information easily.” 

“Oh! Oh! So… I had no idea that being King was so… painful. No wonder your father looked relieved when you took over. Did he lose the tail?” 

“He did.” Vegeta nodded and shifted his toga a bit as he wrapped his tail around his waist again. As he did so he flashed his entire lower front to Bulma without realizing it. When he looked back at her, she was so red in the face that he actually reached out to feel her forehead. 

“Sorry- you just- you’re supposed to wear something under that you know.” She breathed. Realizing what he’d done, he just smirked and sat beside her again. 

 

“I suppose now we’re even.” He kissed the bend of her jaw while she sat frozen in shock. “Don’t worry.” He added, noting a hint of alarm on her face. “I’m a skilled lover. You won’t feel any pain on our wedding night.” He said proudly. That broke Bulma’s shock and she couldn’t help but smile at him skeptically. 

“The first time with a man always hurts though.” She said. “Everyone knows that.” 

“No.” He scoffed, and chuckled. “That’s a bullshit lie spread by weak, unskilled, southern men to trick women into thinking it’s their fault their husbands are hurting them.” 

She looked at him for a long time. He’d said something similar before, but she didn’t buy it. It was just what happened when the hymen broke. But, she didn’t say as much. She just nodded and smiled at him. At least he was proud of his skill, and would attempt to make her feel good. She’d heard so many horror stories from older women about their wedding nights being painful, and how they would bleed… But when she looked into Vegeta’s proud, confident face she couldn’t help but believe him. 

“Once the Colds are dead- we’ll be able to be together. Properly. Soon we’ll win this war, and than merge the two countries into one- and the Northerners who want to can come live in the south. Who knows, maybe the young and hearty Southerners will move North, and the elderly will move South when the arthritis starts in.” She joked. Vegeta chuckled and nodded. 

“My people will finally have a chance at something beyond survival. The possibility comfort brings.” He looked out the window, almost dreamily. He really did love them, Bulma realized. His people. Her chest filled with warmth. 

There was a knock on the door, and Videl stepped in. 

“King Vegeta, Princess Bulma.” She curtsied. “Sir Krillin is nearly done having the sick brought to the throne room. He says they’ll be ready for you in about half and hour.” 

“Thank you, Videl.” Bulma said, relieved that she and Vegeta had managed to part before she’d come in. “You’re dismissed for now. Thank you for your help this morning.” She added, remembering how cool she’d been towards her. 

Videl looked scandalized. It was not common to dismiss a lady in waiting until the end of the day- it was almost an insult. 

“Where I’m going will be dangerous, and there’s no need to risk getting you sick, or hurt.” Bulma explained. “I’ll need you again when I’m done, though. I’ll send for you than.” Videl nodded, curtsied, and left them alone again. Bulma pulled a bowl of mixed citrus fruit towards her and drizzled it with honey before tucking in. She’d have a long day and needed to get some real food down before getting started. 

While she ate, she told Vegeta what her plans for the day were. He nodded, while he too ate mouthfuls of fresh berries and baked goods. 

“This bread is so amazing.” He said after gulping down a large mouthful of plain cake. Bulma sweetly pointed to the loaf of actual bread, and Vegeta frowned.   
“Why wouldn’t the cake have frosting?” He asked.   
“Because most people eat it with berries and sugar so you don’t need frosting.”

 

Rather than waiting to be called upon, Bulma finished eating and went to the throne room on Vegeta's arm. As they passed the library, she looked inside, half expecting to see her father and his entourage. She snapped her head forward, and hugged Vegeta’s arm a little more tightly.

When they got to the throne room, she paused just before entering to allow the Keeper of the Wardrobe to add a long elegant cape of black silk to her shoulders, and a brightly glistening tiara made to look like vines and leafs to her head. 

Looking properly regal, she stepped into the highest balcony in the throne room. It was a place usually reserved for high lords and ladies to sit during speeches, and ceremonies so they would be able to see the goings on. From up here, she wasn’t noticed straight away as Krillin was helping to usher people on stretchers into the room. It was horrible. She looked towards the Throne, but her father wasn’t sitting there. He would never sit there again.

She forced herself to look at the people lining up, and at once, her heart began aching for them. One man cried out in pain as he was moved- and she wished she could have gone to them- but Krillin had be right. It wasn’t safe. She should have waiting until Krillin gave the okay, but she didn’t. She began healing each person laid out in a stretcher. One by one her eyes flickered over them, like she was counting them. 

As she got further down the rows of people, the first ones she’d healed started to stand up and examine themselves in delighted wonder and amazement. The first man looked around wildly, his face split in a huge smile when   
“PRINCESS!” He shouted and pointed to her on the balcony. “The Princess has come to save us!” Heads turned to look at her- and for a moment she lost her place. 

“Be still!” Vegeta commanded, his deep voice echoing through the wide hall. The murmurs died down. “Allow the princess to heal you all before you begin moving about and thanking her. We don’t want to miss someone.”

Bulma squeezed his hand thankfully, and started again. It took a few minutes to do this, since there were at least 100 people spread out on the throne room floor. Than, for good measure she healed the guards, one by one. Even Krillin. 

“Is everyone healed?” Krillin asked. There were murmurs of agreement throughout the hall.   
“Good, than please everyone file out, and watch where you step just incase someone did get missed!” 

“Thank you!” Bulma cried out, drawing their eyes to her. “Thank you for all you’ve done for our kingdom, and i’m sorry you all had to suffer so much! You honor your family's! All of you!” 

There were wild cheers, but it did not distract them from doing as Krillin had asked of them- and filing neatly out. No one, it seemed had been missed. 

“Well that was fast.” Vegeta said softly.

“It was. I thought there’d be more.” She admitted. 

“There are hundreds of sick who inhaled a diluted version of the gas after it had started to dissipate.” Krillin said, a few minutes later as he joined them on the balcony. Bulma felt sickened by this, and turned away from them. 

“Krillin, Have the people who need healing line up. I’m going to heal as many as I can today, and I’m going to plan everything. At the same time. There’s no reason I can’t look up and heal some people as I make decisions.” She turned to face him, expecting a frown, but instead found a wide smile. 

“Alright.” He beamed at her, and ran off to do as told. 

A half an hour later, Bulma was seated on the smaller throne to the left of the Kings. It would be hers, after her coronation. But for now, it would remain empty but for a black crown that sat in it’s seat, where her father should be. Vegeta stood beside her throne, a little ways back out of respect. 

Around her, castle staff, Priests, and Lords gathered to ask questions and set up plans as Krillin had people filing into the throne room, in a straight line. 

“The Princess is planning the Kings Funeral. She is busy, so she will not be able to address each of you. As you’re healed, move aside and exit so she can heal the next person. Don’t worry if it takes a moment.” He was explaining.

All sorts of people filed in. Most were being helped by someone, or carried, or pushed on a wheelchair. Each time she looked up, she’d heal whoever stood at the head of the line, and than focus on her staff for a moment, before healing the next person. Some took longer than others to move out of the way, as their healing was painful. Guards stood between Bulma and the people, leaving just enough gap for Bulma to see. Outside each person was patted down thoroughly to make sure they had no weapons before entering. 

Vegeta would sometimes sit in the throne beside hers to the left, and sometimes stand. But he seemed to be very board. If not for the never ending supply of cold sweet teas, fruits, and cakes he’d probably have gone mad. Bulma at least had something to do. Though not enough. Not enough to keep her distracted.

Eventually he sent his squire Cabba to fetch him a book on Southern etiquette, and sat reading quietly. Looking up only when a cry of pain broke his concentration.

“Princess.” He said as the group of staff, Lords, and Priests finally left the throne room that evening. 

“Hm?” She asked, without looking away from the line of people. 

“The more I read the rules of southern etiquette, the more I think it’s all a very elaborate plan to control the women. It says here a lady should always be escorted by a gentlemen when traveling at night. That just seems-” He gestured to the book. Bulma looked sideways at it and snorted. She’d had to read that as a child and she’d hated it. 

“Yes, you’re not wrong. Those aren’t hard rules though. They’re more suggestions, and my father and I have done away with many of those traditions.” She explained, and turned towards her father’s throne to ask if he knew about a more recent copy of the book- when her blood ran cold. He wasn’t there of course. This was the worst part of being back. She kept seeing his ghosts everywhere- but this time was the most… painful. She masked her tone so no one would know what she was thinking. 

“I don’t think we have a more recent copy of that, come to think on it. I’ll have to have an updated one written.” 

“Yes, you should because it also says a maester is supposed to witness a royal marriage consummation.” Vegeta grumbled. 

“Oh! That just means he’s supposed to see the married couple to bed, and do a physical exam of the bride in the morning.” She shrugged. “It’s more to protect the woman from abuse.” 

“Southern men.” Vegeta sneered, and didn’t mind the dirty looks he got from the men around him at all. 

“Need I remind you, that not all northern men as as chivalrous as you?” Bulma asked, carefully trying to reference Raditz’ actions without announcing it to everyone in the throne room. She didn’t want to give anyone a bad impression of the North if the merger was to go through smoothly. 

With the funeral planning done, and everything in place, Bulma spent the rest of the day healing the seemingly never ending parade of injured. It seemed though, that the people shuffling inside were slowly starting to look less hurt. Now, they all carried themselves, and walked in, and out without help. 

Krillin seemed to be masterfully organizing them so that the most hurt people went first.   
“How many more?” She asked when Krillin came to check in with her. 

“Not many. I didn’t expect you to get this many done today.” He confessed. “If I have them pick up the pace now that you’re done with the funeral planning, we could finish them all in about an hour or so.” He estimated.

“Yeah, do it. I’d like to have everyone healed before tomorrow.” She said. He nodded once, bowed, and ran off. 

“Alright!” He shouted. “You’re all able to walk, so things are going to speed up a little! I want you each moving at a good clip! Don’t stop at the end, just slow a bit, and keep going! We want to get everyone healed tonight!” 

Murmurs of agreement filled the hall, and people began speeding up. Bulma healed them so quickly that most people didn’t even need to slow at the end of the line before turning and leaving with smiles on their faces. 

Finally, after ages, the line seemed to come to an end. Relieved, and thinking she’d actually done it- Bulma stood up and stretched her stiff back, but the doors hadn’t closed yet. She stood there, waiting, staring at the open door as the last of the healed trickled out of the exit until the hall was empty of citizens. She turned to leave, but Krillin held up his hand to stop her. 

A woman shuffled into the hall. She was limping rather a lot. A guard stepped forward to help, but she held her hand up to stop him. As she got closer, Bulma could see she had dark short hair. As she got closer still, Bulma could that she was filthy. Her bangs seemed to be very straight, and the hair framing her face was rather long, but the back was very choppy. Her leg was caked in dried blood and her clothes hung around her in tatters. Bulma couldn’t tell what was caked on blood and what was dirt. 

Without waiting for her to get much closer, she healed her. The woman stopped for a moment while her wounds gnit closed- and stepped tenderly on her previously hurt leg. Seeing it was fine, she marched forward towards Bulma, shoulders back, and chin high.

“ChiChi!?” Vegeta said in astonishment, and leapt from his throne. Bulma gasphed, and ran forward, Vegeta got there first, Bulma right behind him. She’d never meant ChiChi before, but that didn’t stop her from taking the black silken cape from her shoulders and draping it over ChiChi’s shoulders to cover her.

“Princess Bulma- King Vegeta.” She said, her voice dripping with exhaustion. “Your guard didn’t believe me- I was-” She staggered a bit on her feet, and Bulma wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her. “I didn’t know King Vegeta would be here- I didn’t know of the attack until this morning- I didn’t know of- of your ability to heal- I didn’t know Vegeta was King now. The guards didn’t believe I was who I said I was- they only let me in because I was hurt, and you were healing everyone- I-” Her eyes welled up with tears. “Please, is my husband with you? Is Goku here?”

Bulma and Vegeta exchanged a look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ٩(｡•ω•｡)و
> 
>  
> 
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	16. Chi-Chi's tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chi-Chi tells Bulma and Vegeta her story

That hall went silent for a long moment as Chi-Chi sagged against Bulma.

 

“He… he went to save you,” Bulma said softly. “That was three days ago, He should still be pretty far north... We’ll send for him.” She promised earnestly. “Come on, let’s get you fed and rested,” 

Chi-Chi nodded, the knowledge that Goku wasn’t there seemed to make her lose her will to keep upright. It was a great effort to steer her out of the throne room before Vegeta eventually caved to his nature and scooped her up. Bulma noticed her cousin Marron looking scandalized. 

Bulma lead them to the guest room closest to her own, calling for chambermaids to draw a bath and bring food and water as she went. Chi-Chi was so exhausted though, that by the time they got there she was asleep. Vegeta laid her down on the bed and stepped away. The change seemed to rouse her because she sat up and pushed off the bed and looked around in a haze. 

Bulma stepped forward. She probably understood how she was feeling better than vegeta did. She knew what it was like to find yourself exhausted, cold, and emotionally devastated at a foreign castle, and at their mercy. 

“It’s okay, you can rest and then we’ll talk. You’re welcome here for as long as wish.” 

“Okay.” Chi-Chi said, and blinked around the room.

“Rest now, it’s-”

“No. I want to be clean first.” She said a little rudely, but Bulma paid it no mind. 

“Of course.” Bulma turned to Videl. “Please fetch her some night clothes to wear. She can use some of mine, and bring few more women to help get her washed and to bed.” 

“Yes, Princess.” She said quickly and ran off to comply. 

“How did you get here?” Vegeta asked as soon as they were alone. 

“Escaped, walked, took a boat, walked some more.” She grunted and sat down in the nearest chair. 

Vegeta looked suspiciously at her. Bulma frowned at him, and the two guards hanging close by.   
At least they were both women. 

Vegeta didn’t bother trying to get anymore information out of her before the tub was brought in. 

“I’ll talk to her in the morning.” He said as the staff hustled to get the tub filled with hot water. 

“Yeah, _we_ will.” Bulma said, and Vegeta understood what she meant, and excused himself. They wouldn’t want him in the room when she stripped. 

Poor Chi-Chi could hardly stay awake long enough to bathe. In fact, Bulma was certain that she’d fallen asleep while Videl washed her hair and Bulma scrubbed at her healed wounds. It was an obscene amount of dirt and filth that required the tub to be emptied and refilled twice before they were done. Finally, after an hour of hard washing, Chi-Chi was done.

She dried off enough to pull a loose but comfortable silken night shirt on, and climb into bed. She hit the bed so hard and fell asleep so fast that Bulma wasn’t entirely convinced that she hadn’t fallen asleep mid-step and just plopped onto the soft mattress. 

Videl tucked her in, and secured the netting around her bed, before she and Bulma left for her own room down the hall. 

“I’ve heard rumor of her strength.” Videl said softly. “She was a warrior princess, after all. But I’d never thought she’d have… Escaped the Colds on her own.” Videl whispered in awe. 

“I didn’t even think it was possible.” Bulma agreed. “She must be truly incredible. That would explain why Goku was still so deeply in love with her while I was in the North. We all thought she was dead. The Colds made it look like she was dead.” 

“That’s what everyone thought.” Videl agreed. “We didn’t even know she was alive, that’s why I turned the guards away when they came to me this morning saying she’d turned up-” 

 

She was cut off by the sound of a loud slap that echoed through the hall. 

 

Bulma had turned, and slapped her hard across the face.

The sound of it seemed to reverberate in the air for a long moment. Videl looked shocked as she stood there- cheek red from the force of it. 

“You are not my equal. You do not know everything. You have been very forward with me today. You’ve corrected me, made a schedule without consulting me, and now I find you kept information from me. A sovereign Queen had to spend all day in line barely alive, because you didn’t believe her. Because you didn’t pass on a message to me. You, little girl haven’t any clue as to the goings on in this world. Did you know that Frieza sent her hair with a note to the north, telling them she was alive, and a hostage? Of Course you didn’t because you weren’t there, and since you’re _not_ princess, or queen you’re not privy to this information. But still you made a decision after being my lady in waiting for less than 24 hours. What if she had died out there. Waiting to get help.” Bulma spoke with a tone of quiet fury. Tears welled up in Videls eyes. 

“Get out of my sight. I’ll decided what to do with you in the morning.” Bulma spat.

Wordlessly, Videl turned and ran down the corridor.   
“See to it she doesn’t flee the castle tonight.” Bulma told a guard, who nodded, and ran to comply. “Thank you.” She added politely as he ran off. 

She went to her chambers on her own, and went through her routine quiet alone, and quite pleased to do so.

 

But as she lay in bed, she found sleep impossible to to summon. She longed to drift off into nothingness, but as she did she couldn’t stop her thoughts from swarming buzzing around her mind. Videl’s shocked hurt face after Bulma had hit her, Chi-Chi’s blood caked body, and somehow worse of all the thought of seeing her father’s body tomorrow.

It had been weeks since he’d died. And yet being back here was somehow much worse than being away from home. No matter where she looked, she could see him. She couldn’t separate him from her memories of this place, and she didn’t know if she wanted too. 

 

Try as she might, she couldn’t sleep. She kept imagining her father stepping into her rooms to speak with her about the day. To give her advice, or scold her, or ask for a favor. She sat up, and looked around. Last night she’d been so exhausted that she’d fallen asleep without thought. But now… this room held too many memories of him. 

She remembered what Vegeta had said yesterday about wanting to share her bed. He was in a guest room, with no memories of her father. Maybe, if she were there with him she’d be able to sleep. To forget the stress of the day? It was risky, but after another few hours of trying and failing to fall asleep she caved. 

She knew how to get there without being caught. She’d done it a lot as a child when she just wanted to stay up late talking to her friends who visited from other Kingdoms. She put the bar on her door so no one would be able to enter, and pulled on her simplest grey cloak and stepped out onto her balcony and called to Ember, who came fairly quickly. She didn’t need to think it, deliberately. He knew. She climbed onto his back, and he flew her around the castle and landed quietly on Vegeta’s balcony.   
_’ He’s alone._ Ember told her, as she slipped off his back and tiptoed in through the closed curtains. He was laying in bed, very much asleep from the sounds of his snores. 

Feeling very childish, she crept across the marble floors and sat on the edge of his bed. He didn’t wake. She considered just crawling in with him, so he would find her when he woke, but she didn’t want to intrude if he didn’t want to take the risk. With a glance at his door, she saw he’d already bared it. 

“Vegeta” She whispered.

 

\---  
Vegeta

“Vegeta.” Bulma’s soft whisper pulled him from his restless sleep. His eyes flew open and he sat up in alarm until his sleep raddled mind caught up. Bulma was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking pale and flushed. 

“Bulma.” He said, looking her over. His mind took in the clues. Her guilty expression, the way she fiddled with her hands and chewed her lip told him she’d come for a reason. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, I just couldn’t sleep and… erm…” She looked away from him and down at her lap. He understood at once, and pulled the covers back.  
“Come on.” He said. She flushed, but looked relieved and delighted as she shed her cloak and crawled into his open arms. 

The sheer night dress did nothing to hide her body from his eyes as she snuggled up to his side. She was so warm against him. It was like a dream to see her curvy soft body crawling towards him. He held his arms open for her, and she slipped into them, her face pressing against his neck as he snaked his arms around her and pulled her into the middle of the bed with him.

“Wait, wait.” She whispered, breathlessly, and crawled to the edge to lean over and messily tuck the netting under the mattress. Vegeta didn’t care about bugs, so she’d only barely finished before he was pulling her back to him, causing her night dress to pool at her armpits. She stifled a nervous giggle as he held himself over her and admired her naked form. 

God she was stunning. Her smooth milky skin, the elegant deep curve to her waist and the wide arch of her hips was mesmerising. He slipped his hands into that soft nook and leaned down to press his face into the bend of her neck and inhale her sweet scent. God her skin was soft. He just wanted to let his hands roam over her forever. To sleep every night with her soft curvy body pressed against his. 

She draped her arms lightly around his shoulders and slipped one hand up his neck and into his hair. Delightful shivers vibrated through him at the touch.   
“I should go.” She whispered, her voice barely audible.   
“You just got here.” He growled. “And now you’re going?” He pushed himself up just enough to look into her beautiful blue eyes. She looked deeply conflicted.   
“I know, I just- I wanted to share your bed but it’s not fair. It’s not fair to do this to you.” 

He raised a brow at her. “Do what, to me?” 

“To… come crawling into your bed when I’ve no intention on… when we can’t… make love.” She flushed, and broke eye contact. 

He sighed loudly.   
“I don’t recall saying there was a price to sleeping in my bed.” 

“Well- well _no_ but what else were you supposed to think when I-” She started, and he groaned in annoyance. 

“You came to me and said you couldn’t sleep, so I took that to mean you thought you would be able to sleep here, with me.” He said.

“Oh! Well, yes. I thought it… would be easier to sleep in here, with you near me… I find your presence so comforting, and I’ve almost no memories of my father in this guest room soo….” She trailed off.

“Yet you think that just because you’re here, and naked, sex is somehow required of you?” He asked, unable to keep the annoyance and confusion from his tone. 

She didn’t answer. 

“Bulma, I’m beginning to hate southern men.” He said cooly, and pulled her back into his arms. “Southern men may not value affection beyond sex, but I do.” He said firmly. She looked up at him, eyes wide and surprised. Her surprise annoyed him too. If most southern men were like this, it was no wonder so many women here turned to one another for pleasure and comfort. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice cracked faintly and tears filled her eyes.

Deep affection for her welled up in his chest, and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her as softly as he could. She arched up against him, her chest pressing against his and her soft hands weaving wonderfully into his hair. He eased onto his side next to her and held her tightly against him.

She wriggled the night dress off over her head and tossed it to the foot of the bed, and out of the way. This was much more comfortable. He ran his hands up and down her back again, loving the deep vally her lower back formed before arching out into her wide hips and shapely backside. She kissed the parts of his neck and jaw she could reach, and made a content little sigh as he squeezed her rear. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” She said between tender kisses along his jaw. He snorted playfully and turned his head to nibble on her ear. 

“That seems like an understatement when all you really have to compare me too are these southern so called “men”.” He joked, voice husky. She chuckled, her tone somewhere between agreement and exasperation.

She wriggled closer to him, hiding her face against his neck. He ran his hands up her back again, his chin tucked on top of her head while her breathe slowly evened out. 

His arm felt a little numb, after a while. But he didn’t care. Once she was asleep, and there was no more friction against his member, it started to relax. With her soft breathe on his neck, her sweet smell filling his nose and her soft flesh under his hands, he fell asleep and slept better than he had a in a long time. 

 

The following morning, he woke up when he felt a chill on his chest to find her slipping out of his arms and tucking him in with the blanket.   
“Woman.” He groaned, and reached for her to pull her back to him, his mind still thick with sleep. “It’s still early.” 

“I need to get back to my rooms before my lady in waiting comes to call. If they do, and I don’t answer there’ll be a panic.” She whispered, though she lingered long enough to crawl back over and kiss him. She hummed contently as they parted, and smiled fondly at him. “You are so handsome.” She breathed. “Thank you, for last night.”

He was tired enough that he forgot to smirk, and just smiled dopily up at her.

“I love you.” He said, without a thought as his eyes drifted shut. He could still feel her warmth on his lips. The bed shifted, and things were still. 

The next thing he knew someone was knocking on his door. 

“King Vegeta!” Cabba called, his voice heavily muffled through the thick wooden door. 

“Coming!” Vegeta grumbled tiredly. He was torn between wanting to stay in bed, and wanting to leave. The place wasn’t nearly as inviting as he’d have liked without Bulma there to warm the sheets. 

He decided it was best to start the day, and with great effort pushed himself out of bed and let Cabba inside. 

Normally he was the sort to wash before bed so that he wouldn’t be sleeping in the dirt of the day, but this morning he had a bath to start the day, so that he would be properly clean before the funeral. 

After he was dry the Keeper of the Wardrobe entered, carrying a white toga for him to wear. This surprised him some. In the north, black was worn at funerals, but this was the cleanest white he’d ever seen. 

It was in the style of the other’s they’d dressed him in, only today they didn’t secure it with ornate pins, or a belt with a golden buckle, but rather it was tied closed with a modest rope of woven silk and gold threads. He supposed there was some tradition to this, but he didn’t know what it was. 

“Cabba.” He said, realizing he had someone he could ask without shame. “Do all Southerners wear white to funerals?”

“To a kings funeral, yes.” He said, eager to answer and be helpful. “Normally, people wear black to funerals, but to a king or queens, everyone except direct family wears white!” 

“Why is that?” He asked as he lifted his arm so the Keeper of the Wardrobe could secure the toga with a small pin that vanished into the folds. 

“To represent new beginnings, and to separate themselves from the family! You see, it’s believed here that the soul of a person can’t move on until their body is buried or burned, and they bid their family goodbye. Since a King or Queen would be loved by so many, everyone attending wears white, while the direct family wears black so that the spirit can find them in the crowd! Death is also seen as just the first step in the eternal life! So the white is to celebrate their re-birth in the great paradice!” He said, clearly deeply enthralled with the topic. Vegeta nodded to show he was listening, but he didn’t really care. 

“How long will Bulma be expected to wear black?” 

“The family of a dead king wears black until there’s a new king or queen!” 

“I see.” He said and stepped down off the dias to put on the simple sandals they’d given him. They were weaved of the same white and gold silk threads as the rope around his waist and holding his toga and cape on his shoulders. When he looked up, he was rather surprised to see the Keeper of the Wardrobe holding a crown atop a pillow. 

Southern crowns were usually some sort of thin elegant thing, usually gold or made of something just as precious, and cast in the shape of delicate vines with leafs. Even the mens. But the crown sitting before him now was decidedly Northern in style. A thick solid band that came to seven points with one being a little taller than the others. Though unlike in the North rather than gold, this crown was made of white gold and encrusted with beautiful white gems that looked of moonlight turned solid.

Vegeta picked it up, and looked at the inner band. It was padded with soft velvet. Also unlike the North, where if the crown dug a little into your head, than that was just part of the pain you had to bear to be king. 

The Keeper of the Wardrobe looked deeply uncomfortable as Vegeta put it on, and made sure it was straight. 

“What?” Vegeta asked, frowning. 

“Sire, in the south someone else has to put your crown on.” Cabba said. “I already explained to him that in the North a King’s power is taken, not given.” Vegeta gave the boy an approving nod, and he positively beamed at him. 

“Try not to look too happy.” He teased. “Today isn’t a happy day.” 

With some effort, Cabba nodded and stopped smiling.

 

\----

Bulma

She only just got back to her room before she heard knocking. With a sigh, she padded across the soft carpets and removed the bar. She stood by the window with her back towards the door before calling “Come in!” 

She heard shuffling behind her, and in the reflection of the glass, she saw Videl step in, head hanging.   
“Princess, Good morning.” She said timidly. 

Bulma turned to her.   
“I’m sorry I slapped you last night.” She said, shoulders square. “I shouldn't have done it. I offer you my blessing to honorably step down as my Lady in Waiting if you wish.” 

Videl looked up, eyes wide.   
“Princess?” 

“Do you wish to step down?” 

“No, Princess!” She said quickly. “Princess, I’m sorry for my discretion!” The words burst out of her and she fell to her knees before Bulma. “I’m so sorry. Because of me, Queen Chi-Chi was left to suffer all day. I’ll never assume to know anything of your wishes again.” Tears streamed from her eyes, and Bulma felt a rather large stab of guilt for what she’d done. 

“Thank you, Videl. Please stand.” She crouched down and gently helped Videl to her feet. “It was your first day, and it wasn’t an easy one. Serving someone who still grieves the loss of her old Lady in Waiting must have been hard. I made it harder on you, and for that you have my apology. One day it will be your job to whittle out information and requests that I don’t have time for. But that will come after you’ve served me long enough to know better what I need to hear, and what I do not need to hear. We are at war, so that time will not come until it is ended. But in time, you will come to know me, and I will come to know you. Than you will be able to make those decisions without speaking directly to me about it. In the meantime, do not fear anger on my part for bringing me seemingly unimportant or useless information. Alright?” 

“Ofcourse, Princess. Thank you for not dismissing me.” She choked back a sob, and wiped her face on the back of her hand. 

“Excellent.” Bulma said with a small smile that she didn’t really feel. She had thought offering Videl a honorable way out was the best she could do. Bulma couldn’t imagine why she would want to keep working for someone who done something as horrible as hit her. 

She enjoyed the quiet while she washed and dressed. It let her think on Vegeta’s mumbled words. “I love you” he’d said. Did he mean it, or was he so asleep that he hadn’t realized what he was saying? Her mind raced. She knew he cared for her, but love? It was one thing to want to marry someone. Especially people in their position. The fact that they were mutually attracted to one another, and had formed a friendship was about as good as it got for Royals in a profitable marriage. She certainly felt very strongly for him. But was it love? 

The keeper of the Wardrobe dressed her in a black silk toga, and the high priest was brought in to place the crown on her head. It was a crown of black gold and black crystals made to look like a ring of vines bearing black roses that sparkled in the light. 

She hated this crown. She’d had to wear it when her mother died, but it had been to big for her than. The stylist had been forced to curl her hair around a thick roll of fabric wrapped around her head so the crown would have something to sit on. It had inadvertently started the trend of wearing what seemed to be one thick curl around one's head to funerals. Today her hair was blessedly styled very simply, as was the religious tradition for such events. 

Throughout the very ceremonial process of dressing this morning, she longed to go and see Vegeta. To crawl back into his arms and feel his hands on her waist, and his stubley chin against her neck. 

But she needed to see Chi-Chi. Both to hear her story, and to get her mind off Vegeta’s confession, and the ever looming funeral. But she had to wait until she was properly dressed. She didn’t have much time before the funeral, so as soon as the High Priest was done with his prayer, she was on her feet, and rushing as much as she could without being rude to the door.

The guards outside Chi-Chi's room knocked and announced her arrival. Bulma waited for Chi-Chi's called “Come in!” Before entering. 

Vegeta was already there. He and Chi-Chi sat in the plush chairs arranged by the fireplace, which sat unlit. Chi-Chi was already dressed in a simple white tunic, wearing a crown in the southern style of white. The stylist had cleaned up her chopped hair, and she looked very pretty now. The short hair showed off her long neck, and heart shaped face. 

Vegeta had a lovely Northern style crown of white atop his head. Bulma was surprised at how lovely a job the jeweler managed to do in such a short time. Sadly, there was no time to follow tradition and provide a white crown in the style of Fire Mountain for Chi-Chi. 

“Chi-Chi!” Bulma greeted, and bowed as low as she dare with this oversized crown on her had. Chi-Chi and Vegeta both stood, and bowed back to her. 

“About time you got here.” Vegeta teased lightly. Bulma smiled at him, and crossed the room to Hug Chi-Chi, who stiffened in surprise at the contact. 

“Chi-Chi, I’m so thrilled you’re here. How are you feeling?” 

“Much better now that I’m healed, rested, and fed. Thank you, Princess.” Chi-Chi said sincerely.. 

Bulma sighed in relief. 

“Thank the gods. We were worried sick about you. I was in the North when the Cold’s message that you were alive got to them.” She said, and joined them by the fireplace. She eyed Vegeta curiously. Nothing seemed different about his demeanor. Maybe he really had said it in his sleep. Bulma pushed those thoughts from her mind. It was important that she pay attention to Chi-Chi now. 

“I’m sorry to arrive at such a sad time in your life. I’m so sorry for your loss. Your father was a Great King.” Chi-Chi said respectfully. 

“Thank you. I’m so sorry for the loss of your father as well. He was killed when the Colds attacked Fire Mountain, was he not?” 

“He was.” She said sadly. 

“We will avenge them. Our fathers. We’ll destroy the Colds, and their armies.” She said passionately. Chi-Chi smiled a little for the first time. 

“Thank you. I’m sure you have questions for me. Vegeta has been kind enough to wait until you got here so that I wouldn’t have to tell it twice.” 

“I do, of course. If you don’t mind we would like to know how you were taken, and held, and how you escaped and came to arrive here. In short- we should like to know everything.” Bulma said, and turned to Videl.   
“Have out meals brought here, please.” 

“Of course, Princess.” Videl bowed, and left them alone. Chi-Chi smiled gratefully. 

“Well, they took me before they gassed Fire Mountain Castle. They must have some sort of sleeping gas as well, because I woke up as they were carrying me away- and I could see it. The yellow gas seeping out of the doors and windows. It was night. Those unlucky enough to be just inside it’s range coughing and screaming in pain… It’s lucky Goku and Gohan were in the North, visiting his mother. She’s very sick, you see- oh!” Chi-chi’s mouth formed a circle O and she looked to Bulma. “But, you were there! I suppose that means she’s-”

“Healed, yes.” Vegeta answered. 

“Oh! Oh good! I always liked her rather a lot. She shared my passion for making Gohan a brilliant King. But- back to the story…” Her face fell a little. “They kept knocking me out. I’d wake up just long enough to eat, and drink, and than they’d put me out again. By the time I arrived in their country I didn’t know where I was. I just knew I had to get out. I knew they’d try and use me for ransom at some point.

I was there for… for months. They kept me in a small room with several other prisoners. All young women. They’d only come inside to feed us, and…” She swallowed. “Rape us.” 

Bulma gasped, at the same time Vegeta punched the small table beside his chair and leapt to his feet in outrage. Chi-Chi flinched, and held her eyes shut for a moment while she forced herself to be calm. The table beside Vegeta’s chair crumbled.  
“My apologies, Chi-Chi.” He said after a moment. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I simply- cannot believe they would- To dishonor someone, especially someone of your status in such a way-” He looked furious.

“Your anger is just.” She said, a cool fury in her tone. She took a deep shaking breath and Bulma couldn’t tell if she was trying to calm herself, or gather her courage. “Eventually, they brought more prisoners. Girls from the north. They told me that everyone thought I was dead. I felt more hopeless than ever. No one would come and save me. I was stuck until the Colds either traded me like cattle, or killed me to punish my husband.” She glared at the floor. “One evening, while Cold’s younger son Cooler was- was in my cell.” She left the horrible indication in the air. “I managed to steal some of the pins out of his hat. 

“I was going to pick the lock, and get out- but one night… they raped the girl I was trapped with to death. She was only 12. I was so furious- so mad that when they unchained me so more of them could- get to me- I snapped, and fought them. All four. I killed them. I thought I might be a decent enough fighter to get out, but I didn’t dare try before. I feared how many guards stood between me, and freedom. I’m a skilled fighter, but I'm not so foolish that I'd try to fight my way out of a heavily armed castle full of guards alone, and unarmed. 

“But in my rage, I didn’t care. I just acted. Once those four were dead, the two out front came in and I used my chained wrists to fight back. It was a small cell, only one could really fit in at a time. Couldn’t swing a sword properly. Once they were dead, I stole their armor, clothes, weapons and keys. Disguised, I moved through the dungeon where they were keeping me, and killed guard after guard. Each of thinking I was an ally until my blade pierced their bellies.

“Eventually, I managed to free everyone in my dungeon. They took the fallen guards swords and armor, and we snuck out, through the sewers until we found ocean. We stuck together at first, but when we hit the beach, and saw the Cold’s men… they scattered. We all went in different directions and I never did find any of them again. So, I fled too. I changed my disguise since by now the Colds had alerted everyone that someone in guards armor was an escaped royal. 

“I was so filthy by now though, that all I needed was a tattered cloak, and a long tunic and I blended in with the people. I was still in the Berserker Capitol, Chao. They’re all poor there. There are no lords, no ladys, and no citizen had enough to eat unless they joined King Colds army. The people live under constant threat of being gassed if they misbehave. The soldiers just steal everything they need from the people. It’s horrible. WIth my new disguise, I snuck onto a tradeship amongst a group of people who’d pitched in to buy bunks on the lower deck. By the time they noticed me it was too late. We were sailing North, and they didn’t dare out me for fear of being accused of sneaking me on board. So, I made it to the Isle of Life's Southern most border, and I… walked.

“I hunted for food, stole some along the way. I avoided main roads incase of a Cold Army invasion, but that meant I had to deal with bandits. I killed the ones who tried to steal from me, than traded their stuff for food along the way. I broke my leg, so it was slow going, and I couldn’t stop for long. Every time I did, I was accosted by bandits. Nice towns wouldn’t take me because of the state of me, and I didn’t dare strip to bathe incase someone saw me. A Cold spy or something. The night before last, I made it here and went straight to the castle. Surely, someone would recognize me. Someone here had to know my father, or me. Somehow. The castle guards took pity on me, and went to tell you. While they did, they let me wait by the fountain. 

The next morning, they came out and told me they knew Queen Chi-Chi was dead. But they still pitied me, with a broken leg. They told me their Princess and King Vegeta were here, and that the Princess had the power to heal, and that if she came to see the public I could join in, and receive your healing. Than, later that same day you opened your doors. I knew this was my chance. Even if Vegeta wasn’t with you, I thought I could beg you to fetch him, that he would prove to you it was me and then… You know the rest.” She finished, and looked between the two of them while they absorbed her tale.

She’d skimmed over the worst of it, that much was clear to Bulma.  
“Thank you, for telling us all this, Chi-Chi.” Bulma said, and reached out to take Chi-Chi’s hands into her own. “This will sound unbelievable, but I have… a steed, that can fly.” 

“I heard word of it, actually. I didn’t believe it.” She said matter of factly. 

“It’s true. It’s how I escaped the castle the night they came for me. He’s… a very intelligent being. He knows Goku. He likes him. I’ll send him to fetch Goku, and bring him here. Once he knows you’re here- Goku will come.” Bulma promised. Chi-Chi smiled tearfully at her, and wiped her face on her hand. 

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry that the first thing you must do after getting here is attend a funeral. In fact, you have no obligation to come at all.” Bulma told her. “You can stay here, and rest all day. Rest, and lounge and eat, and sleep and feel at peace.” 

“I won’t feel at peace until King Cold is dead.” She spat. “But, I will attend your fathers Funeral. It’s the least I can do, to show my respect.” She stood up, and folded her hands neatly in front of her. She looked a little stiff, and out of place. Bulma could only imagine how odd it must feel to be surrounded by such comfort after months on the road. 

“Chi-Chi, I would be honored to escort you, as your brother by marriage.” Vegeta said as he got to his feet and extended his arm. Chi-Chi smiled thankfully and looped her arm in his. Bulma felt an odd jealousy at their linked arms. She didn’t think Vegeta was attracted to Chi-Chi, nor did she really think Chi-Chi was attracted to him. She just wished she could have walked arm in arm with him to the funeral. To feel his bicep under her hand, and his strong frame beside her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on having Vegeta’s support beside her to give her strength as she march towards her father's final farewell. She would do this alone.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much happened in this chapter! Ahhhhh! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter of Hindsight! 
> 
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	17. The Kings Final Accent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma takes her father on his final journey.

Bulma couldn’t put it off the funeral any longer. She would have to enter the Throne Room... where her father would be. Laying on a bed of flowers held up by a elegant wagon; waiting for her to take him to the temple and the afterlife. 

She would be the only one wearing black today, a single dark spot on the seat of white togas. She had only cousins left, no aunts, no uncles. No one else was a close direct relative, except for her. Behind her, walked Videl, her head hanging sadly. Behind Videl Chichi and Vegeta stood arm in arm. She wondered if Chichi would be alright.

Bulma waited at the head of the procession for the Master of Ceremonies to organize everyone by rank. The order of course was very important. Getting it wrong could deeply offend the people of the court and lead to endless troubles. 

The ranking order went as follows: Bulma would be leading as the only living direct family of the King. Behind the King would be other family, related by blood, than family by marriage, and royal guests like Vegeta, and Chichi. The order got a little less important after that. It was basically arranged by rank in the royal court. Last, would be the castle staff who served him. The ones who knew him nearly as well as Bulma had. 

It was tradition that the deceased family member’s cart be pulled to temple by the remaining direct family. Bulma had often seen carts being pulled by so many people that they looked like northern dog sleds. The mental image made her smile, despite herself. 

Unfortunately this meant Bulma would be pulling her father to the Temple alone. She tried not to think about how hard it was going to be, or about when she’d had to make this walk before, for her mother.

She’d been so young than that she could scarcely reach the wagons push bar. Her father and Aunt did most of the pulling, though she tried to help. But it had been a hollow act. She knew the soul of the loved one didn’t stick around after death, as they’d been taught. She wondered what it must have felt like for people who believed in such a thing to do this. Did they feel like they were honestly delivering their loved one to The Great Paradice? As if the gods were so cruel that they’d only let a person’s soul leave a rotting corpse if they were buried properly?

She knew that wasn’t true. When she’d healed her mother's dead body- the thing that came back proved it. If her soul was actually trapped in her body, than when Bulma had healed it- she would have been herself, properly alive. The thing that leapt forward and tried to kill her father… the monster it had been- proved that there was no soul in that body. 

But as she stood there, feeling very alone as the Master of Ceremony ushered everyone into place, she wondered if maybe, just maybe their souls were still around? Not in their bodies, but still on earth. And giving them a proper send off meant they could somehow move on to The Great Paradice. If that were true, than this at least wouldn’t be in vain. This at least wouldn’t be a pointless exercise. She wanted to believe it, she really did. 

Beyond the door, bells chimed, their rings light and clear- summoning her forward. Feeling very alone, and with a great effort, she stepped into the throne room. With her head high, and her back straight she crossed the marble floor towards the sight she had been dreading. 

There, in the center of the room was her father. Laying on the cart, probably in a open casket of some kind- but it was so covered in white flowers that Bulma couldn’t see it. It looked like her father was just, laying there on a bed of flowers floating above four wide wheels.

He could be asleep. He looked so peaceful, but not entirely right. His glasses were on, and they’d combed out his usually unruly, bushy mustache so it was neat and smooth. His crown sat atop his head, his hair too straight, his hands folded too perfectly, his cheeks a little too rosey. 

She tore her eyes away from him and ducked smoothly under the push bar. The grip she was going to be holding while she pushed was wrapped in soft, plush fabric to protect her hands. It gave a little under her grip as she reached out and leaned against the handle. The cart took a good deal more effort to move than she’d expected, but it did yield as she shoved it forward. 

She pushed it to the end of the throne room, and out the huge doors into dazzling sunlight. Faces pointed at her from every direction. Citizens were lined up along the road, all of them in white. Guards marched alongside the wagon as she pushed hard against it to bring her father into sunlight, and into people’s view. He would like that. He always enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun on his skin. 

It was a beautiful day, and the path they’d take to the temple was lined with beautiful trees bursting with pink leafs, that tricked gently to the ground, peppering the road with what looked like pink snow. He loved these trees. He’d love this walk. This view. It was his favorite time of year. Cool enough from the winter to be comfortable, and his favorite trees were in bloom. 

Bulma’s chest filled with emotion as she thought of this, and took in the grief struck faces of her people. There was scarcely a person with dry eyes to be seen. As she approached they sank to their knees, and bowed one final time to King Briefs as he was carried on his final journey. 

This wasn’t for her, she realized. It wasn't even for her father. It was for them. It was to comfort her people as they lived in such a time of tribulation and fear- they could at the very least grieve for their King. The King who had brought them new prosperity, and peace. The king who loved them, and put them above all else.

Bulma trekked up the road with new found purpose. She wasn’t delivering her father’s soul to The Great Paradice. She was giving her people the right to grieve. The right to mourn him, so that they could say goodbye, and heal. So that they could all heal. 

So she pushed, and pushed, even as the road sloped into a hill, she pushed. As she go she scanned the people lining the streets and healed all of them. Eventually the effort to keep the cart moving up was great enough that she stopped thinking about what this march meant. What it would do for anyone, and thought only of healing the people she passed, and of getting the cart to its destination. 

As the hill got steeper, she knew she mustn’t stop, because if she did surely it would roll backwards. The idea was so unthinkable that she heaved it with all her might. She didn’t stop, no matter how much her legs burned and her arms screamed at her to.. She needed to do this. And do it alone. There was no contingency plan for if she failed. 

As she reached the top of the first hill, she looked up to see the temple, still in the distance. She must have only gone a mile, at best. But she kept going, with determination and pure love pulling her forward. She would deliver her father. She would deliver him, as he had his father, and one day her child would deliver her. 

She was making it until one horrible thought struck her. When she got to the top of the hill, and stopped by the temple… it would be the last time she would ever see her father. Suddenly, she didn’t want to reach the top. She didn’t want to get there and to have to say goodbye forever. 

She faltered in her stride, and the cart rolled back. Panic flooded through her but there was a click- and the cart stopped moving. She looked over her shoulder, specifically at the wheels- and saw a locking mechanism on the wheels to keep it from rolling back. 

She felt a mingle of anger and shame well up inside her. On the one hand, her Master of Ceremonies had really thought of everything, but on the other hand it meant they didn’t trust her to make it to the top alone. She turned back to the road, and the people lined up as far as she could see, watching her, one woman even reaching for her. 

They wanted to help, but they couldn't. She gripped the handle with her stiff hands, and pushed again. It barely moved when she shoved it with all her might. Now that she was going up the steepest hill- and with the horrifying realization that she would have to say goodbye at the top- she didn’t know if she could make it. 

She pushed as hard as she could, screwing up her face and putting her whole body into it, she felt it start to give a little whe-

“Suno!” A man's voice cried. Footsteps patted across the stone road and Bulma opened her eyes to fine a young girl with redish hair beside her. The little girl was pushing the handle with everything she had. Bulma was so surprised by the sudden appearance of the little girl in white that she let the cart slip back an inch and click into place on the catch. 

“Suno!” The man called again. Bulma didn’t mind him, though. This little girl was trying to help. She didn’t understand why Bulma had to do this alone. When the little girl realized Bulma had stopped pushing, she looked up at her, face open and innocent. 

“Come on, Princess! I’ll help!” She declared and pushed hard against the cart. She was so small she could only barely reach the handle, let alone get good traction. 

Maybe Bulma didn’t actually have to do it alone. 

With renewed vigor, Bulma nodded, ignoring the tears in her eyes.

“Alright! Together than!” And with a mighty push, the cart rolled slowly forward. On either side of her people shouted encouragement. Bulma no longer looked towards the temple, but down at the people cheering for her. She healed them all, and when she felt weak she looked down at her helper, and felt stronger. Bulma shoved the wagon as hard as she could. Together, they got her father to the top of the hill, and turned it down the blessedly straight road to the temple. 

Bulma used the last stretch of even road to catch her breath before they arrived. When the two were in the shadow of the temple, they pulled her father up the ramp and into the temple proper where he would lay as they finished the ceremony. Now, her father having been successfully delivered, Bulma turned to the little girl, and crouched in front of her. 

“Thank you, for your help. I don’t think I could have made it alone.” The statement was truer than Bulma had intended. 

“You’re welcome.” The little girl said automatically, and looked at Bulma with wide sad eyes. “I’m sorry your papa died. Are you okay, Princess?” She asked. 

Tears filled Bulma’s eyes so quickly that they were already spilling down her cheeks before she could wipe them away. A lump caught in her throat and she shook her head wordlessly. Suno shuffled and reached her little arms up and hugged Bulma around the neck. It was almost too much- Bulma couldn’t help but hug her back, tightly. 

She felt like this hug was bringing the full weight of her loss down on her again. This little girls sincere acknowledgement somehow made it more real. More than just a series of actions she had to make publicly to appease the priests and the people. 

Bulma forced herself to let go of the girl before she started sobbing. She was very near losing her ability to speak as it was.  
“You want to know something, though?” She asked the child. “I will be. I’ll be okay. But right now, I’m sad. I miss my father. And that’s okay.” The little girl looked down at her hands and nodded seriously. Bulma smiled sweetly at her, and got back to her feet. “Would you do me a favor, and stay with me until the end of the funeral?” 

The little girl nodded, and took Bulma’s extended hand. 

Bulma walked with Suno to modest throne set up for her at the head of the temple, while the rest of the funeral procession filed in and took their seats. She pulled Suno onto her lap, and draped her arms around the girl while the ceremony was continued by the head priest. 

She hardly listened. She felt no love or faith for the gods today, but she looked at the speaking priests all the same. She made it seem like she was absorbed in their words, but really she was just waiting for her que to give the speech. Suno sat quietly, but she did begin fidgeting with the hem of her toga after a little while. 

Bulma wanted to look out and find Vegeta in the crowd and catch his eye- but she didn’t dare look away from the priest in case anyone was watching her, and she knew many of them were. When the priest eventually stopped talking and stepped down off the dias, Bulma stood up, took Suno’s hand. As she went to take his place, she scanned the crowd. She found Vegeta among them, the only one aside from Chichi, and herself in a crown. 

A horrifying realization struck her at the sight of him. Attending this funeral was his first official act as king. 

“Today we are all united in our grief. For my Father, for your King. And also, for everyone else who was taken too soon from us by the Cold’s. For The Ox King.” She nodded towards ChiChi, and than began listing off the names of everyone who had fallen during the attack on the castle. The priest looked up in surprise- it was unorthodox, but she didn’t care. She’d worked hard to aquire this list, and it was a long one. 

More than two hundred names later, she paused to let people know she was done with the names.  
“It’s good that today is such a lovely, cool day. They were my fathers favorites. I wish I could say he wouldn’t want us to mourn his loss, but rather to celebrate his life. But he would be grieving too, if he were alive. He would be mourning the loss of our loved ones. He would be angry. As I am. As all of you are. 

So we celebrate his life today, for us. Not for him. We remember his long, great and good legacy. How he served us all so well. He was the most selfless King we’ve ever had. It was his brilliant plan that kept the bandits off the northern trade route and brought prosperity. It was he, who found peace with the Namekians, now our great allies, and it was He who gave a women the right to own property. To join parliament. It was he who always had a bad pun at every meal, just to make me grone. It was he who taught me that a great King listens to his people. A great King protects them above all else. Because the people, you are the Isle of Life. And as he moves from this life, to the next we move forward to make a world that he would be proud of. And while after today, I will never see my father again in this life, I will see him in all of you, who he loved so much.” 

She folded her list under the pedestal as she looked around at all crowd of people, focusing mostly on the citizens, rather than the high borns. She took Suno’s hand again, and stepped off the raised dais. She approached her father slowly, and let herself look at his too perfect face and body again. 

She leaned over the cart, to see a little better. Under the painted face, it was still him. Still her father. She could no longer hold back tears as she ducked her head and kissed his cheek.  
“Goodbye, Papa.” She choked, and stepped down, her body shaking with sobs. Suno hugged her leg, and Bulma crouched to hug her again.

The high priest pushed the stone door to the Retort open at the end of the platform. Heat hit them like a wall and pulled Bulma back to herself enough to look into the Retort, so red with fire and head that she couldn’t see the end of it. She had to push the cart into that. Push her father into that fire.

Some wild childish part of her didn’t want to do it. Didn’t want to hurt him, to burn him. 

But he wasn’t here, anymore. He wouldn’t feel anything. 

She took hold of the handle of the cart, and pushed it towards the open doors of boiling heat. Suno helped. She pushed with Bulma until it hurt to be so close to the fire, and let go. Bulma gave her a reassuring smile, and pushed the cart all the way into the stone Retort, giving it one last little push before stepping back, and watching as the flames swallowed up her father, for good. 

She healed herself of the pain the heat had caused, and turned away as the priests shut the door. She took Suno’s hand again. She was still crying, but she’d managed to stop sobbing, and walked with her head high out of the temple. 

A proper royal wagon waited for her. She went to get in, but paused to look around for Suno’s parents. She bent over and lifted the girl on her hip.  
“Where’s your daddy?” 

“I dunno.” She said, honestly. Bulma looked around the crowd. There were so many faces- but there, in the back she could see a man waving. She stepped around the wagon. Everyone else in the ceremony froze as this went against schedule and watched. Guards rushed to her side as she parted the crowd, and carried the little girl to the waving man, who rushed forward. 

“Papa!” The little girl called, and when the crowd parted, he ran to them. As soon as he got there, Bulma set Suno in his arms. She hugged his neck and started crying. 

“Princess! I’m so sorry! Thank you- thank you for -”

“I should be thanking you.” Bulma said, her voice cracking with barely contained sobs. “Your daughter, Suno helped me a great deal today.”

“Hear that!” He said, to his crying daughter as she nodded her head. “I’m so proud of you. You were so brave and kind, my Suno. You’re a good girl.” He choked on a sob too, and buried his own tear stained face in his daughters mop of redish hair. 

“If she ever needs for anything, you come to me. I’ll see she gets it.” Bulma patted the man’s shoulder, and he fell to his knees in a grateful bow, still clutching his daughter. 

“Oh thank you! Princess! Thank you!” 

 

Back at the castle, Bulma was free to be alone for a moment. She rushed to her comfortable little lounge just off her room, eager to be alone so she could finally breakdown. She almost ran to it- Videl had caught up at some point, and Bulma vaguely noted she was telling people to leave her alone. 

The door barely clicked shut behind her before she collapsed to her knees on the spot and let the sobs over come her. She pulled the horrible black rose crown from her head and threw it across the room, wanting it to break but it just landed on a pillow safely. She curled over on the ground, hugging her knees and cried. 

At some point, she didn’t know when, strong arms were pulling her from the ground and holding her. She found a wide shoulder, and pressed her face too it still sobbing and gasping for breathe between strangled cries of anguish.

 

\-----

She was rather comfortable. Strong arms held her close, and a steady heart beat a few inches from her ear. She opened her eyes and saw only tanned skin and white toga. The light seemed to make her aware that she was in some pain. Her throat burned, and her face felt uncomfortably hot. It was now that she realized she’d cried herself to sleep. 

Vegeta was holding her. She could vaguely recall him lifting her, and pulling her onto the chaise with him before she’d passed out. Her mind was thick with confusion as she sat up, and blinked at him. He looked back at her, and pushed some of her messed hair out of her face. 

“What time is it?” She asked as she looked outside. It was definitely later in the day, and not knowing made her strangely uncomfortable. 

“Near dinner. You slept for a couple of hours. Videl checked in a few times. Should I tell them you’re ready to eat?” He asked as he sat up properly. 

Her stomach turned at the idea of food, but she hadn’t had much this morning before the funeral, so she should eat something. 

“I’ll do it.” She kissed his cheek and got off of him. He stretched and groaned. 

A few minutes later, they sat apart from one another while a modest meal was brought in.  
“So, how’s Chi-Chi?” Bulma asked as she nibbled on a plain cracker. 

“She was fine. Quiet most of the ceremony. She started crying when you mentioned her father, but she also had that Fire in her eyes. She’s as bloodthirsty as you are.” He mused as he looked over the offering of bread, cheese, wine, fruit, crackers and sliced meats. He turned the triple tiered plate of fruit so that the strawberries were closest to her. She smiled gratefully and took one, but didn’t eat it right away. 

“I had no idea that’s what a southern funeral was like.” He said after a long pause. “That wagon looked heavy- I wanted to help you with it. I tried too, but Chi-Chi wouldn’t let go of me. Strong, that woman.” 

“I’m supposed to do it alone.” Bulma said with a little smile. 

“But you didn’t.” Vegeta said with a grin. 

“I didn’t.” Bulma agreed, and signed tiredly. “That little girl was so pure.” 

“I can’t imagine she was much more than emotional support though.” Vegeta pointed out. “So will things be okay with the priests?” 

“Yes. I think so. She didn’t actually help move the cart. She could barely reach the handle, and that’s what’s important.” She said as the last of the dinner dishes was set down, and they were left alone.

“And people say the North is barbaric.” He scoffed. “Making you do that alone… tch!” He shook his head. 

“It’s not… normal, to do it alone. It’s the remaining direct family that pulls the dead one to the temple. I just happen to be the only one left.” She said sadly, and set the strawberry she’d been fiddling with down. 

“You won’t be for long.” Vegeta shrugged. “Soon we’ll defeat the Cold’s, announce the merger, get married, and have a few kids. Then you won't be alone.” He said it as if it were all very easy, as if it were all inevitable. As if it would fix all problems. 

She almost laughed, but than she imagined actually having children with him. For some reason she’d never thought that far ahead. She’d planned on marrying him, and she knew that meant they would have children and those children would rule… but she never actually thought about it. 

She supposed she was one of the few women in the world who didn’t have to worry about complications with pregnancy. 

“Well, that’s a long way off.” She said carefully. Had Vegeta been thinking about having kids with her? “Is fatherhood something you look forward too?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be an amazing father.” He said confidently. 

Bulma nodded in agreement. She couldn’t help but think he was right. She got up and locked the door before sitting beside Vegeta. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her temple. 

She didn’t want to think about children right now. She only wanted to think about how she was going to destroy the Colds. 

“Now, I suppose you have a coronation to plan.” He mused. “How long will it take to plan?” 

“Well, it’s tradition to wait at least a month between the Kings death and the Crowning of the Heir. Longer if possible, but I think given that we’re at war…. I should hurry it along. It’ll be a wartime coronation, so it’ll be pretty modest to save on expense.” She mused. 

Vegeta scoffed. 

“What?” 

“Your definition of modest, is my definition of disgustingly lavish.” He said though his tone was light and he smiled as he said it. 

“Well, compared to to usual ceremonies, it will be modest. My grandmother wore a dress with diamonds stitched into the very fabric of her dress. I won’t be doing anything close to that. I don’t even think I’ll allow the Master of Wardrobe to make me anything new. I’ll just wear a simple white dress, and lord knows I have enough of those.” She said, her mind racing already with the details of the event. 

“You’re not worried about how you’ll look on your coronation day?” He asked skeptically. 

“No.” She said lightly and took a strawberry to nibble on it. “I’m beautiful enough that I don’t need a diamond dress to be memorable.” 

Vegeta snickered and shook his head in mild disbelief.  
“What?” She looked up at him.  
“I mean, you’re right.” He shrugged. “I saw your grandmother's portrait on the wall. She wasn’t a very pretty woman.” 

“No, she wasn’t. She didn’t need beauty to be the best Queen of the last thousand years though.” Bulma leaned her head on Vegeta’s shoulder and ate another berry. 

The two sat contently together for a long while. Lazily eating while they aimless planned the coronation. Bulma would make a mark on history by being decidedly modest. “Besides, I think a plain dress will just increase my beauty, where as something ultra lavish would just over shadow it.” She said. She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Sort of like how you’re best looking man in the castle and yet you don’t puff yourself up like the men here do.” 

Vegeta grinned down at her and brushed his lips across hers. “You’re very generous with the compliments today.” He mused. “It’s good. You should keep it up. I don’t think I’ll grow tired of waking up to hear clearly stated facts about my greatness and good looks.” 

Bulma sat up and turned to face him properly, eyes wide with surprise. “I thought you were still asleep this morning.” 

He raised his brow at her. 

“I don’t talk in my sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta what even... are you.... doing?
> 
> Also! Surprise! Early chapter this week! :D
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I cried while writing it. Twice now, I've had to bury father figures so I feel Bulma's pain very intimately. It sucks to lose a parent.
> 
> The fic has a discord!  
> Where we can hang out, you can ask questions, or remind me to write if i get lost in the hiatus zone again!  
> Come say hi!  
> https://discord.gg/qUAPz8P


	18. The Last Straw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma deals with the bureaucracy of her homeland.
> 
> **Edited by:**   
>  [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)   
> 

Perhaps it was her muddled tired mind, or perhaps it was the shock of what he’d said. For a moment, the world stopped moving. Bulma saw only his face, brow raised as he watched her try to process what he’d just said. Hadn’t he been asleep this morning? No. He’d been awake. Awake enough to know exactly what he was saying. 

He loved her. Through the shock, Bulma sat up and stroked his cheek. He leaned into her warm palm. 

“I love you too.” She shook her head at a loss for the right words. “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that… I love you. I’ve certainly been attracted to you since my first day in the North… But I don’t know when I realized how much I loved you.” 

“You were attracted to me?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Do you remember that morning when you answered the door in a see-through night dress?” She blinked at him in surprise and nodded. She’d been very embarrassed then. The way he’d stared at her with such open desire still made her shiver. 

“If you had invited me into your room then, I'd have had you. Right there. Honor and duty be damned,” he said seriously. “But it wasn’t until that night when I saw you bring Raditz to his knees, that I knew my feelings for you were more than lust.” 

Vegeta pulled her onto his lap, “It was the first time I'd ever been impressed by someone I’d wanted,” he explained. “Today, watching you drag that wagon up to the temple alone… I wanted so badly to just take it and push it with you. To help you-” 

She cut him off with a kiss. He squeezed her against him crushingly hard, but she loved it and melted into the kiss. When they finally parted, she looked outside at the clear sky and felt overwhelmed by the peace of the moment. If she had Vegeta, she felt she could face anything. 

\--- 

She snuck into his room again that night, and they had a wonderful time laying in each other’s arms. The touch of respite from the war and the grief was what Bulma needed. Although, Vegeta seemed to be struggling to enjoy it as much as she was. Twice that night she woke up to find him still very much awake, his fingertips brushing up and down her arm in a way that both tickled and relaxed her. As she snuggled against his side and hooked her leg over his, she felt her knee brush against his rather erect member. 

“I can go,” she whispered, her voice soft and kind. “If you think you’d sleep better alone. I don’t mind.” She kissed his shoulder to show she genuinely didn’t mind leaving if it meant he got a decent night’s rest. 

“Hm? Why?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and low. 

“This again,” she huffed. “You know; because you’re… aroused, and we’re waiting to be together until…” She shrugged and wriggled her head a little to indicate the uncertainty of their future. 

“This again,” he agreed. “You keep assuming that my arousal means you either have to have sex with me or leave. I’m enjoying this.” 

“Isn’t it… uncomfortable?” She tore her eyes away from the little lump in the blankets and looked up at him. 

“You’ve been aroused before, surely?” He scoffed and Bulma nodded. 

“Of course!” She nearly laughed at the thought, but then remembered that he didn’t know about her past relations. Not really. “I’ve certainly spent my fair share of nights aching for you,” she confessed. “Like when we were in the hot spring room, back north,..” She was pleased with the darkness. She didn’t want him to see her flushing. 

“Ached?” He uttered. “Ached? I’ve never heard someone describe arousal like that,” he frowned. “I don’t think it’s painful. I think the desire is wonderful. It makes it so much better when I do get to touch you. It makes the satisfaction later so much better.” 

Bulma flushed at the way he was so sure they would later be married. He was determined to make this merger work. 

“I can’t wait to Marry you.” She stretched to kiss his jaw fondly. “So, why were you lying awake if you’re not uncomfortable or in pain?” 

He smirked at her and ran his fingers up her arm again. “I was just thinking about the moment when we will be satisfied,” he growled playfully and rolled onto his hands and knees above her and kissed her deeply. 

She slipped her arms eagerly around his shoulders and met his excited tongue with just as much desire. It was bliss to lay here, holding him and feeling his powerful arms around her while he rocked on top of her cruelly. The near friction made her even more breathless than their lasting, flavored kiss. All at once, he removed his lips from hers and buried his face in her neck while he shook violently for a moment. 

“Vegeta?” She yelped and tried to get a look at his face when his body went slack, and his dead weight crushed her. “Vegeta?” She asked again. 

“Woman,” he grumbled, voice muffled by the pillow. “I’m fine,” he panted and pushed up to look into her eyes. They were half-lidded and tired looking. It took her a long moment to realize what had happened. 

“Oh!” She gasped. She’d never seen a man climax before and she didn’t expect some fevered kissing to be enough for him. He seemed to notice her confusion, however, because he gave a tired little laugh. “The friction from the bed.” He ducked his head to kiss her collarbone. “I hadn't planned on...” He sighed and shook his head. Bulma was torn between fondness and laughter for him. She couldn’t blame him for his little slip, and she didn’t even mind, really. 

“It’s okay.” She kissed him. “At least now you’ll be able to sleep.” 

“And what about you?” He uttered. 

“I’m alright, you didn’t hurt me.” She assured him. 

“That’s not what I meant. I know you need to be a virgin to be wed. The only way they can tell is if you still have a hymen…. And there’s a lot of pleasure to be had without breaking your hymen,” he promised, his voice rumbling through her chest. She was so startled by his offer that she didn’t speak for a long moment, she just stared down at him, wide-eyed. 

“Come on, Bulma. Let me taste you,” he growled. 

It was too much. She practically felt her vulva throb at the thought. Her face flushed and she chewed her lower lip. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had such pleasure either. Her mind blurred with desire before she finally nodded. 

He made a delighted, possessive sound deep in his throat and kissed her lavishly again. He worked his mouth down over her jaw and neck while he pulled the hem of her nightdress up over her hips and pushed under to grip her breasts. She gasped and arched into his touch. 

He parted from her to kiss a line straight to her stomach. She imagined what his touch would feel like as he got closer and closer to her wet feeling vulva. She remembered his words when they’d been in the hot spring with him for the first time. He’d kissed her all over then too and complained that he’d not gotten to taste her properly. She’d been amazed to hear that men did that in the north. She still was. 

She was in such a state of anticipation that his kiss down her stomach felt as if it took forever. He placed his arms under her thighs and moved up to wrap his arms around her hips and pulled her up to his mouth. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist to hold her while he leaned back on his haunches. Bulma was nearly upside down and couldn’t believe the sounds he made as he looked right at her completely exposed pussy. 

He groaned hungrily as he took one long slow taste of her. She cupped her hands over her mouth to stifle the cry of pleasure as his tongue ran over the most sensitive spot. He groaned lustfully and ravished her wet, quivering heat. She shook and tried to brace herself against the bed, but she couldn’t get a decent hold when she had to keep covering her mouth with her hands to keep anyone outside from hearing. 

“Mmmhmm, woman,” he moaned. “You taste like a peach. I’m going to make a meal of you,” he declared and dipped his tongue inside her. His words hit her nearly as much as his touch and she actually wadded up her nightshirt and stuffed it into her mouth to stifle the noises she made as he positively devoured her, licking up every bit of wetness her arousal provided and wriggling his mouth between her lips to get a better taste of her. His own moans of pleasure shook through his chest and into her. Blood rushed to her head and fogged her mind even further - before she knew it, she was shaking and twitching against him - the pleasure was overwhelming, but he didn’t stop. 

“Vegeta!” She cried around her own wadded up nightshirt. He shook his head and licked her more.  
“I’ve not had enough,” he announced and kept running his eager tongue up and down her slit. She groaned desperately - the pleasure so intense that every touch made her jerk and wriggle - but his powerful arms held her against him like a rock. She shuttered and convulsed with each new hungry caress of his tongue. If he kept at this, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself quiet. She tried to say as much, but each time she got close to pulling the fabric from her mouth he did something that made her go rigid as a wave of pleasure shot through her. 

Before she knew it, her mind went blank again as pleasure paralyzed her for several long moments - this time she managed to pull her nightshirt out of her mouth and gasp, “Stop,” before he kept touring the sensitive area. 

He did as she asked, removing his mouth from her and easing her hips to the bed. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she gasped for breath, her face flush and warm. He kissed a gentle line up her body to her lips and smiled down at her proudly. 

“Just rest,” he whispered and lifted her into his arms to lay her down properly at the head of the bed again and wrapped his arms around her waist and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She was so drained from his ministrations, that she fell asleep in no time. 

 

The next day, Bulma finally caved to the requests of the other lords and ladies and started having formal meals again for breakfast and dinner. Videl was especially helpful the following morning as she helped Bulma schedule out her day with enough time after breakfast to spend a few hours in the workshop. High Commander Roshi had returned to the castle for the King’s funeral, and she would need to speak with him. 

She didn’t enjoy the small talk that was required of her at such meals, but she went through with it politely all the same. Vegeta sat to her right, and Chi-Chi to her left. As royal guests, they had the highest ranks. 

“Sleeping well, Chi-Chi?” She asked as brightly as she could. 

“Oh, yes. It’s nice to have a bed again,” she smiled warmly and poked at her bowl of fruit. The dark circles under her eyes said otherwise. 

“That’s good! I’m sure you will sleep even better when Goku gets here. We’ve already tried sending word, but I’ll have Ember go and fetch him today. Since Goku was trying to stealthily find you, I think Ember will be our best bet. We’ve also been spreading the word that you’re here and safe. The people all saw you at the funeral too, so that should help things,” Bulma said, knowing that’s what Chi-Chi wanted beyond all else. 

“Thank you. I miss my husband and son.” She took a feeble bite of melon. 

“Gohan is a fine young man. He’ll be so thrilled that you’re alright. I can’t wait for him to get here too,” she mused. “He’ll love the library.” 

“Oh! You did get to spend some time with him, didn’t you? I’d forgotten. Yes, he will love it. He’s such a clever boy.” 

“He is, and so polite.” Bulma enjoyed the way Chi-Chi’s face lit up as she talked about her son. 

“OOOhhhhhh, but Princess!” Bulma looked away from Chi-Chi, to her cousin Maron who looked absolutely intrigued. 

Bulma tried hard to never flat out dislike someone. She could usually find at least one redeeming quality about a person. Maybe they were actually very kind, or they had a knack for fashion or something. Maron was the only person Bulma had ever truly disliked. She was the daughter of her uncle on her father’s side. 

“Yes?” Bulma asked with forced politeness. 

“Weren’t you engaged to Goku while you were in the North? Before they knew Chi-Chi, was still alive, of course? Isn’t this horribly awkward for you?” Maron forced a sad smile, but it was a little too wide. 

Bulma glanced sideways at Chi-Chi, who flushed angrily and looked at her bowl. Bulma had been worried about that, actually. How did she bond with her ex-fiancé’s wife? 

“You know, I suppose it could be,” she admitted. “If not for Goku’s honesty and loyalty. He loved you so much, Chi-Chi. He didn’t want to marry me, he told me so. He said he would because he had too, but that he would never love me as he had you. That he’d always miss you, but that he would try his best to be a good King, and husband. I was so amazed by his honesty. I’ll admit, I thought Goku and I could be good friends, which is more than most people in arranged marriages have.” She watched Chi-Chi’s cheeks flush as she spoke. “And as soon as we knew you were alive, he announced he was going to save you, no matter what it cost.” 

Chi-Chi smiled at Bulma. It was a very different smile than all the ones she’d gotten before. Bulma realized that she was seeing Chi-Chi’s genuine smile for the first time. 

“Oh! Well, that’s wonderful! But what about our allegiance to the North? Surely, we need to bond the countries with marriage. I suppose that leaves the other brother, what was his name? Raditz?” Maron asked curiously. 

“No. Raditz was banished to serve in the Northern army for crimes against God,” Vegeta said firmly, his tone so severe that it ended the subject of Raditz. 

“So, maybe one of your uncles?” Maron suggested. “Or, do you have another brother?” 

“My only other brother is 13,” he answered, clearly annoyed. 

“Oh! I see! Is that why you’ve come to the South than, King Vegeta? To find a bride amongst Bulma’s appropriate family? Someone of noble blood?” She smiled so coyly at him, that Bulma was surprised she didn’t wink. 

“He came to better serve the war effort, but you do bring up a good point Maron! Oh, but... That’s right! There are no women in our family who are eligible? I’m going to be queen here and you’re next in line for the Throne, so if you did marry King Vegeta you would be forfeiting your right to this throne,” Bulma said, her tone calm from years of practice masking her real feelings. “You’re the only heir right now, so of course you can’t possibly marry a foreign royal.” Maron’s eyes fell at Bulma’s declaration that she would never approve of such a wedding. “At least, until I’ve married and had a few heirs. Then, you would be available!” She looked between Vegeta and Maron, face carved into a smile. Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her and looked between the two of them. 

He opened his mouth to speak several times but shut it each time while the two women waited for him to speak. Bulma willed Vegeta to be clever.  
“Plans of marriage can wait until after the war,” he said carefully. Maron smiled so widely that it was almost rude. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.” Bulma shrugged. 

“We really should talk about your marriage though,” Maron pointed out. “You’ll need an heir soon after you’re crowned.” The rest of the table looked up at the two of them, curiously. “I think aligning ourselves with the North would be wise, but the only eligible son is 13.” 

“Princess…” Bulma looked up at the sound of a new voice. It was, of all people High  
Commander Roshi. 

After breakfast, Bulma went to find Ember, with Vegeta and Chi-Chi in tow. She found him lounging on top of the blacksmiths forge.  
“Ember, this is-” Bulma started.  
‘I know,’ he drawled. ‘I heard. I’ll go see if I can find Goku,’ he thought, his voice a deep echo in their minds. He stretched like a cat and stood up. 

‘Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in days.’ Bulma thought it so the others wouldn’t hear.  
‘Resting. You’ve been working me very hard lately,’ he complained. ‘And when Chi-Chi got here I knew you would send me to find Goku, so I’ve been resting to prepare.’ He tossed his fiery mane, and Chi-Chi stepped forward in awe. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she gasped and reached out to touch his mane. Bulma watched cautiously as Chi-Chi stroked down his neck. “You’re stunning! I’ve never met anyone like you before - where on earth did you come from?” She asked in wonder. 

‘I like her,’ Ember said and preened a bit. ‘I’m not from earth. It doesn’t matter though. I’ll go look for Goku. I like Goku.’ 

Bulma rushed forward to hug him goodbye. 

“Please be safe,” she pleaded. She didn’t know what she would do if she lost him too. He nuzzled her back with his large maw. 

‘I will.’  
And with that, he beat his massive wings and flew off into the northern sky. 

Chi-Chi retired to her rooms to rest, while Vegeta joined Bulma in the workshop.  
“While I was in the North I was doing a lot of research, and I think I’ve found a way to protect against the gas that King Cold and his men have been using,” she explained. “I just need to try a few prototypes. With my ability to heal, I should be able to test it safely on anyone,” she said eagerly. She’d missed the workshop and all it had to offer. 

\---  
Vegeta 

When they finally got there, Vegeta found a comfortable seat and watched disinterestedly while Bulma worked. The master of the lab was a man called Doctor Gero. He and Bulma chattered back and forth eagerly, while Gero sent a young man running to get the needed supplies. He reminded Vegeta vaguely of Unus. 

Bulma seemed to be making a plague doctor mask of some kind where the wearer’s air was filtered through layers of dirt, alcohol-soaked cotton, and wet fabric. It was so slow going that he couldn’t really appreciate what Bulma was doing until she’d nearly finished. 

“There!” She held up the mask triumphantly. “Now, I just need the smith to make one that’s properly airtight with a glass face so the person wearing it can see. Dr. Gero, you kept some of those gas bombs that didn’t go off, right?” Bulma asked. 

“Princess, yes of course I did. They’re in the cellar, in a chest full of dirt. I got your letter with your theory about wet soil serving as a filter and thought that would be the safest ways to keep them secure before we run some tests.” 

Vegeta didn’t ask how it worked, because he didn’t care. He only cared that it did work. “The North can provide iron and steel for the metal work. If these work, every man, and woman in your country and mine will need one. Especially the armies.” He stood up and stretched with a groan. Bulma smiled brightly at him. 

“This is exciting. I hope they work! Oh! And Unus should be getting back with Goku, pretty quickly!” Bulma told them. Vegeta shrugged. Gero and the boy, however, lit up.  
“I can’t wait to see her again. She’ll be furious when she finds out we came back right away, but…” he shrugged. 

“Unum, I think it’ll be okay,” Bulma said with a chuckle. “She’ll just be pleased you’re safe.” 

They left the small workshop and went to the elaborate dinner. It was delicious, as always. Maron, the woman who looked like a less beautiful version of Bulma didn’t sit with them again this evening. Vegeta was a little too grateful for it. He wasn’t excited about Bulma being jealous again. The moon wasn’t up just yet, but it was getting there. 

Bulma could tell Vegeta was uncomfortable, so she didn’t linger after dinner, but rather escorted him back to his rooms.  
“I’m sorry today was so dull for you. Tomorrow I’ll arrange for you to be able to train with the Knights of the court.” Bulma gave his arm a gentle squeeze. 

“Is this how you felt in the North?” He asked, tone light. “No wonder you spent all day reading, or in the training room” 

She flushed. “It was warm in there.” 

“Mhm,” he nodded a little sarcastically, and she flushed a bit more. 

He wanted her to share his bed tonight, but he knew she couldn’t. Without Ember to fly her to his balcony, there would be no way. He wanted to kiss her before they parted, but again with her Lady in Waiting on her heels, as always, there would be no way. 

So, when they got to his chambers, He took her hand in his and bowed to kiss it. She gave a tight smile, barely containing a laugh. “Thank you, Sire,” she curtsied. “Sleep well.” 

Cabba followed Vegeta into his rooms and went through the nightly routine of laying out his night clothes and bringing him a basin with water to wash in. Vegeta didn’t much feel like talking to the boy, but he was grateful for him, all the same. He rushed to close the curtains without an order. It seemed he noticed that Vegeta liked them closed. The night air brought pleasantly crisp air with it. As Vegeta lay in bed, staring at the mesh canopy, he wished for Bulma’s warm, soft body beside him. 

Sometime later, he was nearly asleep when a ray of moonlight fell across his face. The feeling of the ape was so overwhelming that he jerked away from the beam of light with a pained growl and looked wildly around for the source. Pain prickled up and down his body like a wave. The curtain to the balcony was closed again and Bulma stood just inside, gripping it tightly. 

“I’m sorry!” She said placatingly, her voice quivering. In the dim light, Vegeta could see her shaking, looking at him with wide eyes. He looked down at his hand and saw the brown fur had started to creep out of his flesh and now agonizingly dug back into his skin. 

Bulma approached cautiously, lingering near the edge of the bed. It took a few moments before the pain stopped and he could speak again.  
“It’s alright.” His voice was stronger sounding than he felt. When he looked back up at her, she was pulling the mesh aside and crawling towards him. She wore another one of those see-through, loose hanging nightshirts. His stomach flipped eagerly at the sight. With a thick hand, he reached out and pulled Bulma to him, with a bit more force than he’d intended. She winced when she collided with his chest. 

“Are you sure?” She pushed off of his chest and looked him over carefully. “You-” 

“I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to come tonight, I didn’t think you would be able to without Ember. How did you manage it?” 

“I just climbed over to your balcony from next door. I made a rather large show of moving to sleep somewhere else for the night since my room had too many bad dreams,” she shrugged. 

Vegeta’s eyes consumed the sight of her bare body greedily and pulled her flat against his chest. He growled. “I want to feel you - to touch every inch of you and watch you gasp and moan at my touch.” He pushed to his knees and pinned Bulma gently to the bed. She laid back willingly and looked sadly up at him. 

“We can’t make love,” she whispered. “We can’t, not yet.” She chewed the inside of her cheek with worry. “I’m sorry, I wish we-” Vegeta held a finger to her lips to silence her. 

“We won’t make love then,” he shrugged and rested a large amount of his weight on her while he started kissing her neck. “That doesn’t mean I can’t touch every inch of you and watch you gasp and moan in pleasure at my touch.” He spoke each word between soft kisses. She flushed. “If you think sex is the only way to give pleasure, then you’re a very unimaginative woman.” 

He swung his leg over her hips and knelt beside her. “Lay on your stomach,” he prodded. 

Bulma threw him a furtive, quizzical glance before doing as he asked, and rolling over. He swung his leg around her again and knelt on her upper thighs. She looked over her shoulder at him as he pressed his hands against her lower back, his thumbs on either side of her spine and his fingers spread out over the muscles in a butterfly shape. 

He pushed gently up, rolling her achy muscles under his strong hands. She sagged against the bed with a surprised “Oh!” of pleasure. 

He smirked. Clearly, she’d never had a back rub before. It was almost a shame her first was going to be at his hands. Now she’d never been able to enjoy one from someone who wasn’t him. She folded her arms under her cheek and rest her head comfortably while he worked. Every so often he’d roll a muscle or turn in a way that made her moan softly, the sound muffled by the pillows. 

He loved this. He got to turn his hands up and down her beautiful creamy skin and over the dip curve of her waist and the small of her back. He loved the feeling of sliding his hand over that curve. The way her soft flesh seemed to cradle his hand for a moment. He ducked his head to kiss her shoulder. Her breaths evened out as he rubbed and kneaded the tired muscles. 

When he bent to kiss her, he found her very much asleep. He brushed his lips over her shoulder and pulled the pillows from the head of the bed so they could sleep comfortably, even at the odd angle. He laid beside her and she sleepily snuggled up to him, wrapping her arms around his midsection. 

He fell asleep feeling very comfortable. Her presence had calmed him. He was so distracted by her that for a while he’d completely forgotten the ape and as he dozed off, Bulma in his arms, her breath warm on his neck, he felt more at peace with the world than he had in a very, very long time. 

 

\----- 

Bulma 

Pounding. Slamming fists - something was punching a wall? Bulma sat bolt upright and looked wildly around. Vegeta was crouched on the bed, between her and the door. It took her sleep raddled mind a few moments to realize that someone was pounding on Vegeta’s door. Panic fled through her - she would have to run to get to the balcony and climb down - but then she heard what the person on the other side of the door was saying. 

“Princess Bulma is gone! Sire! The Princess is gone!” Vegeta turned to look at her, worry etched in every line of his face. Bulma jumped up and rushed to pull her nightshirt, and appropriate robe on. When she was covered properly, she smoothed out her messed hair and sat in one of the plush chairs near the door and grabbed up a cup of wine that had been sitting out all night, probably. Vegeta seemed to realize what she was doing and rushed to do the same. He pulled a sleeping shirt on, to cover his bare chest while Bulma lit some candles around the room. 

“I’m coming,” he roared in a booming voice. Bulma jumped in surprise at the shout and fumbled with the candles until there were enough lit to make it look like they were just having a chat. 

When she was done, and clutching the wine glass again, Vegeta lifted the bar on the door and opened it to find Krillin. 

“Your Highness!” He said urgently. “Princess Bulma has…” He trailed off as Vegeta stepped to the side and gestured to Bulma, who set her drink down and frowned at him. She liked Krillin, and he was absolutely doing his job. She knew she could trust him with her secret, but she couldn’t trust all the knights and guards that flanked him. There was only one thing to do. 

“What is the meaning of this!” She demanded angrily. Krillin paled a little. 

“Princess, we couldn’t find you! What are you doing here at this time of-” He trailed off and Bulma watched as his eyes flickered to the messed bed and his mouth formed a surprised little ‘O’ shape. 

“The Princess and acting Queen wanted my council on something rather important, Sir Krillin.” Vegeta spat, his voice low and dangerous. He inflected the “sir” as if it were an insult. But it wasn’t. It was a reminder that he was a knight and Vegeta was a King and out-ranked him. “I’m sure you can understand but she has been rather stressed since returning home. There are few places in this castle she can go without seeing ghosts of her father and loved ones everywhere. She was struck with an idea that might just end this war and wanted to speak with me to see if the Northern Army would be able to follow her plan!” Vegeta roared, his chest puffing out and the vein in his neck throbbing angrily. Krillin didn’t shrink away, but every other guard did. 

Vegeta was properly frightening when he was angry. And it looked real too. Bulma was even a little surprised by the fearsome red glow in his eyes. Maybe he was just mad that his sleep had been interrupted and he was channeling it? It was a brilliant move, she thought. 

“My apologies, Your Highness. I wasn’t trying to imply that The Princess had no right to be here- I was merely-” He looked between them, and for the first time Bulma saw fear in his eyes. Not at Vegeta’s shouting, but at something else. Bulma got to her feet and ushered Krillin inside. 

“Wait for him here,” she told the guards and stepped aside so Vegeta could close the door with a loud bang. 

“Krillin, why were you looking for me at this time of night? What’s happened?” She stood beside Vegeta, her arms crossed worriedly in front of her chest. 

“There- There’s- We just got word,” Krillin stuttered. He never stuttered. “There’s been an attack…” he hesitated. “On… Vegeta.” Bulma gasped and threw a quick look to Vegeta, the King, and back at Krillin. 

“Where? Did the Cold’s attack a stronghold? A port?” Vegeta’s entire posture changed, he stood more straight-backed and fearsome looking than ever. 

“Your Highness…. It was… all… of Vegeta.” There was a long pause. 

“All?” Bulma shook her head. “What do you mean? They invaded The North?” She shook her head in confusion as her mind tried to deny what she had just heard. “That doesn’t make any sense why would the Colds’ have…” 

“No, Princess.” Krillin cut her off. “They… used a gas and it was...The master of the Northern Valley sent word that the fog had… carried the gas with it - making it a poisonous fog. It was just starting to dissipate a little when it got to the Northern Valley… it… killed over half the people there… and everyone who was…” Krillin took a deep breath. “North, of it. Your Highness… we can’t get any word too, or from Vegeta…” 

END CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/xgIQqr3E40g
> 
> Early chapter this week since I'm going on vacation tomorrow and won't be back until Thursday! Updates will resume on Tuesday evenings as usual next week!
> 
> Special thanks to hannabelllecter, and Saiyanerd for editing this chapter! I can't wait to work with them more in the future!


	19. The Appearance of Vegetabilis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta goes Ape Shit
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 

The world had frozen. Neither Bulma nor Vegeta moved. They didn’t say a word - both were staring at Krillin as if he’d sprouted a second head. Vegeta looked defiantly back at the bald man. 

“No,” he shook his head mulishly. “No, it’s- They’re fine. We northerners don’t keep all our windows open like you southerners. They’re fine. There will have been some... losses but they’re fine. They must be fine. They’re not all dead. That’s ridiculous.” 

“Your Highness…” Krillin took a deep breath to calm his shaking hands and removed a letter from his pocket. “This arrived for you late last night. It came by pigeon. We were going to wait until morning to give it to you. We didn’t think it right to wake you up at midnight to… for a letter but…” He gave up trying to explain, and held it out. Bulma stared a neat, lovely, curvy scrawl on the front of the letter. “Vegeta, King of Vegeta,” it read. 

“No,” he shook his head and for a moment Bulma thought he was like a child stubbornly refusing to eat his vegetables. She reached out and took it.  
“Do you want me to read it?” She asked. He glared at the letter but gave one short nod. Bulma tore it open, her hands shaking more than Krillin's, and her ears still ringing despite there being no loud noise. She scanned the parchment.  
“It’s from Fasha,” she explained. Vegeta scoffed triumphantly.  
“See? It’s from my sister. She’s fine,” he declared. 

Bulma read out loud. 

_”Dear Big Brother,_

__

__

“You should be in The South by now. Ember flies so much faster than a bird, that you might have even been there for a few days by the time this letter reaches you. I hope that’s the case. I know how much you loved it there. How much you longed for the warmth, and fresh fruits and spices. I know how badly you wanted that for our people. I know you had grand plans for us. I hope you have had a few days of peace and rest. 

“I’ve just sent you away on Ember with Princess Bulma. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I knew I had too. The fog that you used as cover, is poisoned. I know it will kill us all, and I know that if you knew it was coming you would never leave us. You would stay and die. But that can’t happen. Vegetabilis lives in you now. You must survive, and keep his spirit alive inside you, and inside your future son or daughter. 

_“You’ll hate me for it; I know. You’ll blame me for our deaths, but that’s okay. You’re strong. You’ll heal, and you’ll win this war. With your strategic mind, I’m sure you’ll be able to fight off the Colds…”_ Bulma trailed off here, and sobbed as she read the next sentence. 

_“In truth... I don’t want to die-”_

Bulma couldn’t go on. She clapped her hand over her mouth and shoved the letter at Krillin.  
The mental image of Fasha sitting there, writing this letter while she shook with fear, made Bulma’s resolve break. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook. Krillin looked teary-eyed too, but she didn’t notice. 

_“I don’t want to be choked out by some gas. I wanted to come with you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave Gohan,”_ Krillin read the horrible words out loud. They sounded strange in his voice. _“Mom and Dad will be happy though. They’ll be together when they go. They won’t have to be apart. You can yell at me when you die of old age and meet me again in God’s arms. Just make sure that doesn’t happen for a very long time._

__

“I hope one day you can forgive me, Big Brother.  
With all of my love,  
-Fasha.” 

Bulma pried her eyes open to look at Vegeta. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes were wide now as he glared at Krillin. He seemed stuck. Frozen in shock, and horror. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. 

“My love?”She whispered as she clutched a hand to her chest. Sympathizing with Vegeta while also discretely addressing him in way she wasn’t sure he’d accept. He was her love, her heart, and she felt a painful urge to remind him of her this; even though now was not the time to reveal such endearments 

Vegeta fell to his knees with a loud bang. Bulma healed him without a thought and crouched down beside him - tried to pull him into her arms. He pushed her away and screamed. 

It was such a horrible sound of anguish and animalistic rage that Krillin actually reached for his blade. 

“Don’t!” Bulma hissed and put herself between them. Vegeta roared in his fury, his eyes glowing bright red as brown fur began bursting gruesomely from his flesh. Krillin shouted in alarm and tried jerking Bulma back, away from the apparent danger. She ripped her arm out of his grip and fumbled to wrap her arms around Vegeta. She tugged him towards the balcony with great effort. Infuriatingly, he hardly budged. He was going to turn into the Ape no matter what, and if he did so inside, would the walls of the castle crush him, or would he explode out of the castle, destroying it? Bulma didn’t like either option, so she kept pulling on him, trying to drag him to the balcony. 

He ripped his arm out of her grip and looked at her, half transformed in what looked like in an agonizing way- 

“Outside!” She pleaded. He tilted his head to the side in vague comprehension and looked towards the door. He seemed to understand what she was trying to do, so he started towards the balcony. Bulma went back to pulling him along while his flesh rippled and changed under her hand. He collapsed with a shriek of pain just outside the curtain. Bulma sobbed and pulled on his arm again, his cries of agony ripping through her heart. 

With one final booming roar, he pushed to his feet and sprint through the curtain. Bulma chased him, only just getting through the curtains in time to see him leap off the balcony. 

“No!” She cried and sprint to the ledge just in time to be cast in shadow as the massive, red-eyed ape stood up in the river. He looked down at his feet and saw them covered by the water. There was an intelligence in those eyes that didn’t belong to an ape. He seemed to be thinking about something - then he roared - a sound so loud and terrible that it shook the ground. 

“VEGETA!” Bulma cried. “TAKE ME WITH YOU!” She shouted. Huge red eyes turned to gaze at her for a long moment. They narrowed, and he stood up straight, huge and proud. He was so much larger now than he had been when he’d turned during his coronation. He was easily taller than her entire castle. 

“Vegeta!” She sobbed, and reached for him, stretching as much as she could though he was well out of her reach. He threw one last look at her and marched away up the river. 

“No!” Bulma shouted. “VEGETA!” She looked down at the river below the balcony, it was close - she would be okay if she jumped. She swung her leg over the rail only to be jerked roughly back over the rail by Krillin and two other guards. 

“NO!” She cried again. “HE NEEDS ME! WHAT IF HE’S KILLED!” 

The guards looked pale - one of them, Bulma noticed, wasn’t a guard at all. It was Roshi. He was pulling her back towards the inside of the castle with Krillin - struggling to keep her contained as she shouted and screamed in her rage. Vegeta was getting away! He was going towards the gas! He could still be killed by the gas if they used it on him! But if she was there, they would be unstoppable! With is power and might, and her healing, they could survive it. Just as she had managed to keep herself, and Unus alive through the gas the first time the Colds attacked. 

Unus. Was she dead too? 

“I’LL KILL THEM! EVERY LAST BERSERKER! EVERY LAST COLD FAMILY MEMBER!” 

Bulma fought as hard as she could against Roshi, Krillin, and the guard. But they didn’t let go. They held her against a plush chair for ages and ages until her throat was raw and her muscles felt stiff and achy from the fighting. It was only when she saw the sun peak over the horizon that she stopped fighting and just gazed, transfixed at the incoming light of day. “Princess,” Roshi said after she’d gone quiet for a time. “I - We don’t have - What was that?” He finally asked. “That beast-”

“It’s King Vegeta!” Krillin answered straight away. “He sort of… transformed into that thing when he found out.” Roshi threw a worried look towards the balcony. “We’ll have to see if he’s stepped on anyone-” He muttered. 

Suddenly, Bulma’s mind was filled with the image of all those faces, smiling tearfully at her as she pulled her father’s corpse to the temple. Her people. Had Vegeta stepped on anyone? Had he accidentally killed anyone? She tried to stand up but both men held her. 

“Let me go,” she said firmly but calmly. “Roshi is right, I need to see to it that anyone hurt by this is healed - now! Come on-” She jerked on their grips, but they didn’t yield. They didn’t seem to believe her. She imagined someone half crushed to death waiting for her and dying because of them, and fury pumped through her anew. This time, she kicked Roshi in the groin. He let go of her with a groan of pain, and she used the moment of surprise to rip her arm free and punch Krillin straight in the face. His head snapped back and she jerked her other arm free. 

“Princess!” He said, outraged. “You can’t chase him-” his voice was high and nasally from his now broken nose. 

“I’m not.” She snapped and swiftly made her way towards the door. “My people need me.” She didn’t wait for either of them to join her. Her grief-stricken mind focused on the one thing she could do right now. One urgent thing she had to focus on or she’d start to think of all the people in the North who had died like… 

Piccolo. 

Bulma swayed on the spot at the thought. Piccolo was dead. He had to be. There was no way he’d survive because he was still in the north. He’d be dead. Now she really didn’t have a father. She leaned on the corridor wall for a moment as agony filled her chest. She took a moment before steeling herself and marching to the throne room. Videl caught up with her, also in her nightdress and looking alarmed. 

“Princess-” 

“Fetch me a coat and the guards. I’m going to the people now to heal anyone who’s been hurt,” she commanded. 

“Yes!” Videl obeyed without question and ran off. Bulma wanted to run too but she needed to give the guards and Videl time to catch up to her. She was greeted by a small squad of guards at the door to the throne room. Among them was Tien, tall and menacing looking as ever. Videl was running to catch up now, long black coat draped over her arm. 

She helped Bulma slip it on and followed close behind her as they hit the streets. The noise and chaos from earlier had woken everyone up, and they’d all pooled into the streets to look at the huge ape that was now out of sight. Bulma ran in the direction of the path he’d taken, surrounded by guards. Even Krillin had caught up, though he was still bleeding. Bulma didn’t heal him. 

Worry and panic flooded her - would there be many wounded? If Ember had been here she could just fly over them and heal all she found on the ground, but Ember was long gone. He was in the North… looking for Goku. Who he would never- 

Bulma came to a halt as realization struck her. The guard behind her nearly ran into her. The letter Fasha had sent Vegeta stated that she knew there was gas in the oncoming fog. She knew, which meant Ember knew. 

She didn’t have time to think about the implications of that just now - she started jogging again, the guards matching her pace. They rounded the castle and followed the river upstream after Vegeta. Bulma and the guards scanned the crowd for hurt or injured people, but she didn’t see any - in fact at first everything looked normal. 

It seemed as if Vegeta had managed to stay in the river as he went so he wouldn’t risk stepping on anyone. Bulma and her guards kept running along the riverbank until they rounded a bend and saw the first out of place thing. A ship. On land. 

Before them, sitting on the road was a huge full-rigged, 4-masted ship. It was leaning on the nearby row of houses, but it didn’t seem to be doing too much damage - it looked like Vegeta had just picked it up and set it out of his way. Crew members were climbing down from the deck on a rope ladder. 

“Princess!” One of them called. Bulma didn’t recognize him but healed him on sight at once. 

“You’ve got to run! A Monster! A Monster moved our ship! Run! You’ve got to get out of here! It’s not safe!” And suddenly, the people gathering around the ship, trying to mull over solutions for how they could help as the crew climbed down, were now crowding around Bulma and her guards. They seemed to be trying to push them away from the river and towards the castle while shouting their concern. 

“No!” Bulma shouted, her voice ringing out over the open street, barely audible above the crowd. One guard pounded on his shield with the hilt of his sword to get everyone to be quiet. 

“The Ape you saw was our Ally! He’s the ancient protector of the north! That’s why he took the river, so he wouldn’t step on anyone! So, he wouldn’t hurt anyone! He’s a friend!” She called, and they all looked at one another and murmured their confusion. “A protector sent from the gods to shield us!” She shouted. 

“Why now, though?!” Called someone. Bulma didn’t know how to answer. “I’ll address that later, to the whole town at once! For now, please let me through! I need to be able to heal anyone who was accidentally hurt; if there was anyone!” They nodded, and the crowd parted, though people kept murmuring as she passed. 

It’s hard to say when she first properly realized how much control Vegeta had over the ape. The further she walked up the river, the more signs she saw of how carefully he moved through the town, walking in the river and moving boats gently out of his way. He even had the presence of mind to set some of the boats down back in the river behind him as he went. 

The worst damage they came across, at least within the range of town, were some destroyed trees along his path. The pink leafed trees that had been growing along the bank of the river, some even leaning over the stream were now bare, and empty from where they’d been brushed along his leg. Some of the branches had broken completely and now lay floating in the river. 

“Get the fishermen from town to gather their nets and use them to gather up all this brush so it doesn’t flow downstream and clog the dam,” Bulma ordered a guard, who nodded and ran off to comply. “Get the master of waterways on this. Now. Go wake her up,” Bulma added as an afterthought. She didn’t want to step on too many toes and doing someone’s job for them wouldn’t make her any friends. 

It was becoming clear, from the way people had gathered that Bulma wouldn’t be able to move easily through town any longer. She decided to go back and send Videl with a guard to investigate the damage and report back to her. 

So far, it seemed that no one had been killed or hurt by Vegeta’s rampage. Whether it was luck or pure willpower on his part - she didn’t know. As soon as she returned to the castle, she was faced with Roshi, who looked decidedly annoyed, but otherwise unhurt. She healed him for good measure. 

“Hmm,” he grumbled when the pain in his groin ebbed away. 

Bulma didn’t apologize, though she did feel some guilt for hurting the older man. She was going to be queen soon, so she needed to set a precedent that she was never to be restrained in such a way ever again. 

“There’s a lot to be done,” He coughed into his arm, clearing his throat. 

“I know,” she said curtly. 

“First, we need to meet with the parliament to speak with them about Vegeta.” 

“He didn’t hurt any-” 

“That’s not what it’s about,” Roshi said quickly. Bulma narrowed her eyes at him, nodded and followed after him. She had hoped for a meeting in the high sitting room. A proper, and comfortable place. But she was being led to the war room. Where she had never before been allowed. 

It was a large oval shaped room with bookshelves lining the walls and a high glass domed ceiling so they could always see the sky. In the middle was a large table with many chairs. Around the table sat many old, pale men in their dressing downs. 

“Your Highness,” the court greeted as they languidly shuffled to their feet when Bulma entered, as was the courtesy paid to a Queen, and a Lady. Normally Bulma would have waved them back into their chairs, since they were all elderly men and standing seemed to take a great effort on their part. She didn't bother with that today. Their polite refusal was sure to take up more time than if Bulma just took her seat at the head of the table, so they could sit again. But she couldn't. Roshi stood in front of her chair and rest his hands behind his back in a defiantly relaxed pose. 

Bulma crossed her arms coolly. 

“When you’ve been crowned, you will take this seat. Your father wanted me to serve as acting regent until you were fit too-” 

“That’s a position that only exists if the heir is a child or ill. I’m neither. Move,” she demanded, her voice cold and full of painful promise if he didn’t comply. She was too tired and too hurt to deal with their sexist bullshit. 

Roshi moved and Bulma thought she saw a twinkle in his eye as he stepped aside. 

“First order,” he said loudly from his new seat. Bulma glared at him again. She could remember all too well the many times she was locked out of the war room, deemed too young and fragile to handle the hard truth that laid in this room. Her father had been let in here when he was only 13. Piccolo had told her. She wasn’t allowed in, ever. Until now. Until they couldn’t keep her out any longer. Until it was too late. Now she had to make decisions and changes to her country without any real experience. Because she was a woman. 

“King Vegeta… or, the former King Vegeta…” Roshi started. “Needs to be addressed.” 

“We make no decision on him until we learn more about the public opinion. We need to know if they fear him, or if we can convince them of the truth,” Bulma stated firmly. There was a long quiet pause while the many members of parliament looked around at one another. 

“And, just what is the truth, your highness? All we know is that the beast came from the castle and used to be King Vegeta. We don’t know if…” 

“He’s no enemy of ours. I walked his path myself and saw that he’d been careful not to hurt anyone. The beast’s origins lay within the Saiyan religion, and King Vegeta has control over it. He called the beast to destroy Frieza for.... for what that they did to his family. To our strongest ally.” 

“So, he’s an ally, the beast king?” 

“Don’t call him that!” Bulma snapped. “He’s a strong man, not a beast. He has a power - a great and terrible power. He just lost everyone he knows and loves. Can you blame him for wanting revenge? And if he should kill Frieza, all the better for us.” 

“That’s the problem - he went north. Frieza and his Father are South. They haven’t left the safety of their chaos Capitol.” 

“It’s Chao. The Capitol is called Chao,” Bulma said remembering Chi-Chi’s story and correcting the old man harshly. “We go to them. We’ve been too passive for too long. We go to them and we kill them. We make them suffer. A surprise attack. They won’t know what hit them. Did all of those gas bombs they dropped on us go off? Or were some of them duds? I can’t imagine…” 

“There weren’t duds, but we did acquire some from the fallen invaders,” Roshi nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, worriedly. 

“We use them. Set them off, the hard way if we have too.” She stood up and glared around the table and was met with silence. 

“Yes, Princess, I agree. We should show a strong hand by attacking. I think it would help if we could use the erm… Kings, alternate form.” 

“We start planning the attack at once. Send word to our allies. Now! We let them know the Ape is our ally before they get wind of him and panic before they know what to expect. Namek, they’ll believe us. Also -” Bulma suddenly thought of all the people in Vegeta who were probably sick, wounded, and now without a home. 

“We open our borders to the refugees from Vegeta. They will become our citizens. I saw the fog as I flew home, they can’t possibly all be dead. Vegeta will have some soldiers left from the southernmost wall, at least. They’ll join us.” 

“Why would they? We were no help when they were attacked.” 

“They were no help when we were attacked, but they still helped us. Now it's our turn to help them. They fight with u-” 

“It… would help…” Another member of parliament stood up slowly, his hands shaking a bit with his old age. 

“Mr. Lao?” Bulma said, politely despite her anger at being cut off. 

“It would help if we had a more… sure alliance with The North. Perhaps, a marriage would properly cement the two countries? The king is now a king of a dead country, so perhaps he would consider a marriage as means to save what remaining people he has left. I know marrying such a beast must be frightening for you, Princess, but we believe that doing so would guarantee the alliance and loyalty of the remaining Saiyans.” 

“Fine,” Bulma said dismissively as if she were annoyed by this but couldn’t poke any holes in the logic. In truth, she was delighted that they were going to agree to her marriage to Vegeta, but the joy was tainted. They would get their deepest hearts desires but at such a horrible cost. She didn’t know if they could enjoy it. Worse yet, the parliament didn’t know Vegeta was kind and gentle. They thought he would abuse her and they didn’t care. 

“We should wait to plan anything until we hear back from our allies. The Namek’s, The Shamosions, The Truffles. We need to know if they’re still our allies,” he explained condescendingly. Anger bubbled in her, making her forget her guilt for a moment. Anger so full of animosity that she considered having his head. 

“Princess!!” Videl gasped as she ran into the room. “You- Pardon me, your honors, but the Princess told me to report back…” 

“No need to apologize, Videl. Come, tell me what you’ve found out.” 

“There were no deaths when the King trekked North.” 

“Really? None?” 

“None! No one was even hurt. And, Princess - Ember is back. He’s waiting for you on the balcony of your rooms, and he… he found King Vegeta’s brother, Goku,” Videl said with her tone shifting from urgent, to tragic. “The gas… got him.” 

No mention of Unus. No one here cared about Unus when a royal was dead. But this royal was Goku. A kind, loving, loyal man. Bulma had cared deeply for him in their short time together, and yet all she could think of was Unus. Unus who was only dead because Bulma had chosen Vegeta. Unus who had loved her and been a loyal lover and protector. Unus who made a rash decision out of hurt and pain at the sight of Bulma with Vegeta. Unus, who Bulma had been secretly pleased to be rid of on that flight home. 

She needed to take action. She needed to move - to do something. An Idea had been bubbling in her since she heard the news, and now with Ember back - she would be able to do it. 

“Thank you. Your Honors is there anything else?” 

“Well, Princess, we need to address the exact content of the letters….” Roshi started. 

“No? Good. If you’ll excuse me,” Bulma nodded and dismissed herself. She made a B-line through the Castle for the basement, where they kept the weapons. She was so set on her new course, she hardly noticed the many odd looks she got for being down here. 

“Princess?” Yajirobe, the thick blacksmith, jumped to his feet and looked at her in shock. 

“I need the active gas bombs that didn’t go off,” she said coolly. 

“Princess- I-” 

“Now.” There was a horrible pause while he looked between her and Videl. 

“I don’t think I can… They’re live, Princess… It’s not that they were duds or anything, we picked them off the dead berserkers who attacked the castle… they’re…” 

“Even better. Show me how to use them.” 

“Princess!?” He gasped. “What?!” 

“NOW! OR I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!” She bellowed. Too many of her people were treating her like a child. Patronizing her either due to her lack of experience or for being a woman. She deserved more respect; if anything for what she had recently endured. Enough was enough. 

Yajirobe jumped and scurried to the weapons chamber. Bulma followed closely. He removed a glass bottle from the shelf, sealed with a wine cork and wax, and filled with little balls. “It is pressure activated, Princess. All you’d need to do is throw them and-” 

“Good give me all you have.” 

“I- err- yes!” He looked like he was going to argue, but then rushed to shove all the bottles in a large thick leather bag. It was far more than she’d been expecting. There must have been forty bottles in total. 

“Good. Now carry those for me, and let’s go.” She turned on her heel and could hear him jogging to keep up, the bottles clanking dangerously. Videl looked pale and afraid as she followed close behind her. 

“Don’t fret,” Bulma said to her, wanting to comfort the only person today who hadn’t disobeyed her and disrespected her. “I’m not setting them off in the castle, or anywhere near it.”  
“That’s not what worries me, My Princess,” Videl muttered. Bulma examined her worried face for a moment. She must have figured out her plan. She could offer no comfort if that was her concern. So, she didn’t. Bulma didn’t go to her room and Ember first. She went to Chi-Chi’s. 

Chi-Chi was still in her nightdress too. Sitting on the floor, eyes wide. She was unmoving. Stunned with shock. Someone had clearly told her about Goku, and the North. 

_“Revenge,”_ Bulma said, hotly. “We get revenge! Come with me!” She marched over to the other woman and held out her hand to help her up. “We kill them for what they did.” 

That seemed to spark something in Chi-Chi. She looked up, face determined, and took Bulma’s hand. The two now rushed through the castle, Yajirobe struggling to keep up while Bulma thought of her plan as hard as she could, so she wouldn’t have to waste time telling Ember the details. 

He was quiet until she was face to face with him on her balcony.  
“You’re not mad, at me?” He asked clearly shocked. She shook her head and he stared at her quizzingly. “You are mad though,” he noticed, his mind searching hers. She was so riddled with anger, hate, guilt, and thirst for revenge - her mind was chaos. It was taking him a while to really understand her. 

She hugged him around the neck.  
“I don’t think Vegeta will be as understanding.” 

“Me either. Let’s go anyway.” He nuzzled her side with his cheek, thankfully. ‘I got him.’ He thought, his voice in Bulma’s mind.  
‘Goku?’ She thought.  
‘Yes. Him, and… Unus. They’re in the great hall. Krillin is seeing to them. They… were asleep when the gas took them. Bulma, they were talking about opening the border for refugees, but I don’t think there will be any. I don’t think anyone survived in Vegeta.’ 

“The plan is still the same,” Bulma said and turned to look at Chi-Chi. She was crying, silently, her brows furrowed, and eyes glistening with indignation and vengeful wrath. 

‘She doesn’t know Goku is dead,’ Ember warned. ‘Although, she suspects Gohan is gone.’ 

“Come on.” Bulma climbed onto Ember’s back and held her hand out for Chi-Chi to help her up.  
“We’re going to avenge our fathers,” she said also keeping Piccolo in her thoughts as well. 

Chi-Chi nodded determinedly and took her hand before swinging up onto Ember’s back with Bulma.  
“What’s the plan?” She asked. 

“We kill them,” Bulma said with a calm, malevolent tone. “All of them. Every. Last. One.” Chi-Chi shifted and wrapped her arms around Bulma’s waist. 

“Princess,” Yajirobe handed her the bag of gas bombs. “I know you don’t want to hear it, and that you could have my head, but I have to tell you the truth. I don’t think this is wise. They know what Ember looks like now. You won’t be able to get to them - not even with-” 

“I’m going,” Bulma said firmly and didn’t wait for another word from him. “Videl, start reading on mass funerals. I’ll want your advice on how to properly mourn a whole country’s worth of people when I get back.” 

“Princess, I’ll pray for you, and you as well, Your Highness.” Videl bowed to Bulma, and lower still to Chi-Chi. 

“We’ll be fine,” Bulma said surely and held on while Ember beat his massive wings and lifted them into the sky. He flew as straight up as he could without risking them falling off his back. Chi-Chi squeezed Bulma, who clung to Ember around the neck as best she could. 

They needed to get high, very high for this to work. They needed to be high enough that a canon would miss them if it shot at them. Bulma didn’t exactly know how high that was, but when they got above the clouds, and even higher than the crows could fly, she thought they would be okay. 

Chi-Chi loosened her grip when Ember’s nose tilted down and they flew straight 

“It’s okay!” Bulma yelled. “You can hold on to me! I don’t mind!” Bulma healed Chi-Chi by touching her hand and healed Ember too for good measure. Ember chuckled, his voice echoing in her mind. 

‘We’re high enough that I can’t hear the thoughts of the people on the land. I think we’ll be okay.’ he thought as they headed south.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks to my **Editor** [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter) , and my **Beta reader** [Saiyanerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Super_Saiyanerd)  
>  You ladies make this fic so much better!! Bless you for all your hard work! 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank YOU for reading this fic! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> I'm really enjoying working on this fic, and I'd love to hear what you think of it, even if it's criticism! Because I firmly believe that all feedback, negative and positive is constructive and will help me become a better writer! 
> 
> I have a _discord_ where we hang out and talk about Vegebul stuff! Come say hi if you want!  
>  https://discord.gg/E7UGGkS


	20. The Chaos Capitol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma goes south to get her revenge and suffers a horrible loss.
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 

Time always moved strangely when you were traveling, it moved even more oddly when you were mad. Bulma couldn’t help but mull over every detail of her plan, but it wasn’t well developed enough to keep her focused on it. Before she knew it, she thought of Unus, and how hurt she’d been because of Bulma. How upset she’d been. How she’d felt betrayed. 

 

She died, far from home and feeling unloved. Without Bulma. Without anyone who really knew her. And Goku died without accomplishing his goal. He never saved Chi-Chi, but she was safe. Goku must know that. In the great beyond, whichever one was real. He must know his beloved was safe. 

 

But that didn’t make it better. It didn’t make it easier for Bulma. Her temple throbbed painfully as blood pounded through her body - heart racing as she imagined her plan. As she imagined killing those bastard, berserker trash, so-called kings. She thought about it for what could have been a thousand years, or maybe five minutes. She didn’t know as she saw the ocean pass under them, and knew they were now flying over enemy territory. 

 

‘I’ve told Chi-Chi your plan,’ Ember thought as they soared. ‘She’s ready.’ 

Bulma squeezed Chi-Chi’s hand to thank her. The other woman returned the gesture. 

 

They were so high up, that Bulma could only just make out the terrane of the land below them. She could tell where the cities stopped and started but she couldn’t see people, and that was a big part of her plan. They would have to get close enough to see people. 

 

Ember understood, and soared on, and on. It was nearing night now, and they didn’t dare land on this continent. But Ember would need to rest, eventually. If they attacked at night, Ember would be super visible, which would endanger them even more. They needed to attack during the day when everyone would be out on the streets and clustered close enough together to actually be affected by the gas. 

 

‘Chi-Chi says we’re still a ways off,’ Ember explained as he read Bulma’s mind. The wind was so loud, Bulma didn’t bother trying to speak to Chi-Chi. ‘I’m going to soar, and take it slow so that we’ll arrive in the morning. We’ll get low enough that I can hear them, so I’ll know if the king and his sons are actually there or not. Then we’ll fly with the sun behind us towards Chao, and you two can drop the gas bombs. We’ll wait for them to work, and circle back.’ 

 

‘Perfect. Are you okay though?’ Bulma wondered. 

 

‘Yeah. I’m honestly just relieved that you’re not furious with me for what I did.’ Ember thought reluctantly. 

 

‘I love you, you know that?’ Bulma let her feelings for him fill her mind. She wanted him to understand that she was hurt by what he did, but that she wasn’t mad. She didn’t blame him. If it had been her, she’d probably have done the same. But she also worried about what Vegeta would say. What he would do. 

 

‘I’ve seen inside that man's mind. I know him better than anyone,’ Ember told her. ‘So, trust me when I say, he’ll try and kill me if he realizes I knew what was coming and took him anyway.’ 

 

‘You really think so?’ Bulma wondered. 

 

‘I know so,’ he thought coolly. ‘He loves you, but I don’t know if his love for you would out weight his hate for me, once he finds out.’ 

 

‘I think you’re wrong,’ Bulma stroked Ember’s neck. 

 

‘The best I can hope for is that his love for you will help him understand why I did it. To save you, more than anything.’ 

 

‘And yourself,’ Bulma thought before she could stop herself. 

 

‘Well, of course, myself is amazing why wouldn’t I want to save myself?’ He did a little head flip, that made his flaming mane wash across Bulma’s cold cheeks. She sighed. It was funny, and if this were any other time, she’d have laughed. 

 

They flew in silence for the rest of the night. Ember soared mostly, to save on energy. It was truly remarkable how far he could soar without needing to flap his wings, as they rode the wind. 

 

When morning finally came, and the sun peeked over the horizon to their right, Ember changed course, so they would be flying at Chao from the west. Chi-Chi and Bulma readied themselves, each of them holding onto a bottle filled with the toxic gas. Chi-Chi holding the bag with her other hand and Bulma holding to Ember. 

 

He began soaring down, at almost an alarming speed. For the element of surprise, they realized. 

 

‘They’re there! In the spire!’ He told them. Bulma felt Chi-Chi shift behind her. As they got closer and closer Bulma saw the spire had several lovely, large windows. All of them glassless. She held her hand up and locked on target. 

 

‘2nd window!’ Ember told her- she changed targets to the 2nd window from the top and threw the bottle at the opening as hard as she could as they soared past. Chi-Chi dropped another one right at the base of the spire, a sprawling castle from the looks of it - though they moved past it so fast Bulma didn’t get a good look. 

 

They circled back around, and Ember flapped his massive wings hard to take them up into the sky, high and out of danger. Bulma dropped a bottle in a large group of people clustered around what looked like a market of some kind. Below, the gas bombs exploded in puffs of blue smoke. 

Some was seeping out of the window Bulma had thrown a bottle into. They moved so fast, that she couldn’t see what was happening. She just knew to throw more gas bombs at any movement she saw on the ground. Ember flew them over a sprawling set of buildings that looked identical to one another. Barracks. Bulma dropped bottle after bottle on these buildings, stopping when Ember jerked them up. He was quiet in her mind, which told her he was busy listening to the ground. 

 

She watched the blue puffs of smoke cover the ground. The gas seemed to spread so much faster than she thought possible. Ember flew them higher and higher, until they could barely see the ground, and began soaring in wide circles while they watched the blue smoke drift through the city. Bulma had more bombs left though, so they dropped them when they passed over areas where there was no smoke. They circled for ages, dropping more gas bombs when they saw the ant-like movement below. The sun bright and clear and hot above them. 

 

They saved one of the bottles, though, and Ember circled until the blue smoke had all but faded from sight, before dropping low enough for Bulma to see the bodies. She imagined Ember could also hear the complete silence that came with death. 

 

There were so many bodies. Bodies she’d killed. Bodies of people who were dead because of her. 

 

She healed them. She knew what it would do. And she thought of Piccolo, and Unus, and Goku, and Fasha, and Gine, and Tarble, and Gohan - and she looked over each and every one of them. Ember circled around the spire so that Bulma could see, and ‘heal’ every unmoving body on the ground. 

 

‘It’s working,’ Ember thought. ‘They’re still… dead…’ He shuttered under them. From as high up as they were, they looked more like ants, so Bulma couldn’t see the horror she knew was below. ‘Is Cold… dead? Did we get him?’ 

 

‘No, he’s -” But Ember’s thoughts were cut off - as something hit them from the side. Bulma clung to him and healed him before she even knew what had hit them. They plummeted for a horrifying moment, while Bulma clung to Ember, and Chi-Chi held to her. It was nearly too late when Ember flapped his wings and they soared up, just in time to avoid hitting the roof of the castle. 

 

There was an arrow in his neck, slowly being pushed out by the magical healing. 

“Ember!” She shouted in alarm and grabbed the arrow to help pull it out- 

‘I love you,’ he thought, his voice echoed in her mind, louder than it had ever been. She stared at the back of his head, confused as her hand closed around the wooden arrow. ‘You were the first to ever love me and treat me well. In my dimension, my life was only pain,’ he thought - his voice filling her mind so much that she nearly didn’t realize how slowly things were moving all of the sudden. ‘I love you, and the life you’ve given me. I’m so sorry.’ 

Panic filled Bulma. 

‘Ember! What’s happening! Why is it - why is everything -’ 

 

She tried to move, but it was as if her body, Ember, and the world were moving in slow motion, and she was stuck - stuck to watch as an arrow came out of nowhere and shot into his head. Blood splattered from the wound - and as soon as she felt a droplet touch her cheek - things went back to normal speed and they were falling. 

 

Things moved too fast now. They hit the roof of the castle with a horrible crash. Pain shot through Bulma’s entire left side, as she hit the tiled roof, and Ember landed on top of her. She healed him, but he didn’t move. Her arm wouldn’t budge, her leg wouldn’t move, and it hurt to breathe - she healed herself and screamed in pain as bones shifted back into place sickeningly. Behind her, Chi-Chi groaned. Bulma reached back for her, unable to turn around just yet and felt her leg - she healed her and for a few moments they were both blinded by pain. 

 

As soon as it faded enough to think, to look around, Bulma realized something: she was cold. She managed to wriggle her leg, and Chi-Chi’s, out from under Ember. She could see him properly now. Before her lay a black, flameless horse, with empty sockets for eyes. She shook him and healed him again. 

“Ember,” she choked and shook him again. “Ember.” She placed her hands on his neck and shook him as hard as she could. His head was half caved in from the force of the arrow. “Ember!” she cried and tried to shake him awake. “Ember, we need to leave! We need to go!” She shook and shook - Chi-Chi grabbed her upper arm and pulled her away from him as the arrows pushed from his head and neck and the wound healed. 

 

Delight ran through her then panic. 

 

“We have to go!” Chi-Chi cried. “We have to move!” She tugged Bulma away from him, but she fought. No. It was okay. She hadn’t been too late! He was fine! But even as she thought those words she knew they were wrong. He was sitting up and looking at them - but his eyes were still empty, his wings just limp feathers. 

 

“He’s dead!” Chi-Chi cried. “He’s dead! We have to go! We have to move!” Her voice was shaking with tears and fear, and with one powerful tug, she pulled Bulma away from Ember and across the roof to press against the side of the pillar. But Ember didn’t follow. 

 

“If they catch us! We’ll be raped! I can’t go back, I can’t!” Chi-Chi cried, and pinned Bulma to the pillar. Chi-Chi had pulled them into a small nook amongst the points of the roof - they were just out of sight of the ground and the windows, but it would only be a matter of time before they were caught - or before Ember got to them. 

 

“He’s just standing there!” Chi-Chi noticed and whirled around to look at Bulma. “You said - The other dead, they got up and started trying to eat one another why isn’t he -” 

 

“I don’t know. The human dead only ever go for humans so maybe because we’re not… like him…?” Bulma shrugged weakly, and Chi-Chi went back to looking for a way out. 

 

They were trapped here. Ember was dead. The Colds were probably still alive. Bulma’s rash plan had gotten her, Ember, and now Chi-Chi killed. She went limp and slid down the side of the spire to sit in an unmoving heap. Chi-Chi groaned with frustration and looked wildly around for some sort of out. 

 

“We wait here, I think,” she whispered. “They can’t see us - not really - we wait and let those monsters you made kill as many of them as they can and - then we try to make a break for it.” 

 

“Those things will try and kill us just as much as anyone. If they do kill the Colds, then we’ll still have to fight them,” Bulma said weakly. Chi-Chi turned around and slapped her so hard that she actually slumped over, her shoulder hitting the uneven roof tiles hard. 

 

“You’re a queen! God damn you, pull yourself together! I’ve lost everything! I’m back where I was tortured for months and months and my husband and son are DEAD. And I’m together! You still have Vegeta! You still have yourself and most of your friends back home! I have nothing left now and you fall to pieces! How dare you!” Chi-Chi yelled and slapped her again, this time knocking her head into the roof a little. 

 

“With you, we can probably make it out! You can heal us, and we - mostly I - can fight! We stand a chance, with you! We can get back to the Isle of Life if you -” She grabbed the front of Bulma’s coat and pulled her into a sitting position and slapped her again. “Get,” another slap, “your shit,” another slap, ‘together!” The last slap was hardest and knocked Bulma over again. 

 

Bulma pushed herself up, weakly and wiped the blood from her cheek as she healed herself. Chi-Chi’s chest heaved with her anger as she stared at her. She was right. Bulma had to do something, but what? She pushed off the ground and got to her feet. She was suddenly so tired that she didn’t think she’d have the strength to move. But she did so anyway, to show Chi-Chi that she was ready to try. 

 

“Good!” Chi-Chi barked and looked around again to get some bearing on their situation. Now that they were quiet for a moment, they could hear screams of pain from below, in every direction. Bulma had an idea and held her finger to her lips as she laid on her stomach and crawled across the roof to the edge, careful to avoid going near Ember and looked down at the chaos she’d created. 

 

The monsters, the dead she’d risen, were attacking and eating everyone they could get their hands on. Guards were dropping right and left. Bulma rose them. Every guard who fell that she could see, she healed. Even the people being eaten - who’d stopped moving. She healed them. They got to their feet, completely fine but dead-eyed, and began running for the nearest alive person. Chi-Chi joined her and watched curiously as Bulma worked. 

 

“What are you doing?” She hissed softly. “More of those things?!” 

 

“They’re not smart,” Bulma explained. “We can use that to our advantage. They’ll kill the ones who are a real danger to us!” 

 

Chi-Chi looked back over the horrible, bloody chaos and nodded, her eyes hard. 

“I’d rather be eaten alive than raped again.” She rolled over and looked above them at the spire. There was no movement from inside the one window that could see them. 

 

Chi-Chi continued to keep an eye out for danger, while Bulma rose each and every newly fallen person. From their perspective, they could see the main entrance to the spire, and Bulma watched as people stormed out of its doors and were confronted by the dead. Bulma couldn’t see the entrance to the castle from the roof, but before long, the dead started rushing into the castle. That meant the guards protecting the door had either fallen or given up and run away. 

 

They waited. It was clear that whoever was inside now, was busy fighting them and not looking for Bulma or Chi-Chi. So, they laid there, watching, and waiting. Making more dead as more people fell. It was horrible to watch, but it was all they could do. The day ticked on and on. Bulma kept expecting an army to arrive and try to help. But none came. 

 

“Why don’t they have back up? This is incredibly suspicious, where are the other guards? The ones on the wall should be coming to help, right?” Bulma wondered aloud. 

 

“They ran for it. The Colds are too cruel to their men to earn the sort of devotion it would take to make a man face these things,” Chi-Chi explained. “Notice the guards who are coming out of the castle aren’t really trying to fight off the dead? They’re trying to get past them to save their own skins.” 

 

Bulma looked back over the chaos with new eyes, and Chi-Chi was right. The guards she saw flying from the castle were trying to get around the horde of dead, and only fought when they had too. None of them made it out of the courtyard. After a while, as more dead poured into the castle, living stopped trickling into their line of sight. 

 

The day trickled by now. With no new dead to heal and raise, they had nothing to do but sit and bake in the hot sun. “Maybe they’ll have… I don’t know, killed all of the Colds and their guards? 

And all we have to do is wait them out?” Bulma wondered. Chi-Chi sighed a little and sat up. “We need to try and get off this roof now, regardless. I’m going to go around the spire and see if there’s movement from the windows.” 

 

“No, let me!” Bulma said quickly. “They need me alive, right? They want to capture me, not kill me. So, if I go, I’ll be safer.” Bulma didn’t wait for Chi-Chi’s argument and crawled as low as she could across the roof to the spire and began trying to circle around it as best she could. 

 

The roof tiles weren’t exactly even, so it took Bulma a few minutes to crawl across them, keeping as close to the spire and as low as she could. Ember drifted into sight and stared at her with dark, empty eyes. She shivered, and her heart ached so much she actually held her chest from the pain of it. She scooted along the base of the tower until he was out of sight, and carefully felt her way out towards the ledge, looking up at the windows as she went. 

 

There was movement. Inside she could see someone struggling with another person. She felt her stomach drop when that person came to the window and looked at her. Panic flooded her for a moment - then, the person just stepped out into the open air and came crashing down to the roof. They hit the tiles with a sickening crash and moved no more. They had been dead. 

 

It seemed the dead had made their way up the spire, but without Ember, Bulma had no way of knowing if they had gotten the King and his sons. She made her way back across the roof quickly and met Chi-Chi at the little nook where they had first hidden. 

 

“The dead are up there. Pretty high up too. I don’t know if they got the King and his sons though, or if the gas got them.” Chi-Chi looked up at the highest window, her eyes narrowed. 

 

“Maybe we can go from roof to roof until we’re at the wall, then make a run for the gate and close it behind us?” Chi-Chi wondered. Bulma followed Chi-Chi’s eyes to the many rooftops and the many gaps between them. She didn’t think it would work, and without food or provisions, they wouldn’t make it far. Certainly not all the way back to The Isle of Life. She could heal, but her healing didn’t feed a person. She could still starve to death, it would just take much much longer. She was about to point out why it was a bad idea to run into the desert without any food or water when a voice pulled her from her thoughts. 

 

“Well then, we’ll just have to bring you with us, won’t we?” said a cold, high voice. Bulma snapped her head around to find a man with a knife to Chi-Chi’s neck. He was short and pale, with a lavender wrap on his head to protect him from the sun. He wore beautiful, freshly tattered silks of rich purple and snow white. He had a split lip, and his hands were scuffed. Chi-Chi was bizarrely still. That was when Bulma noticed the small, round glass sphere in the man's other hand. A gas bomb. 

 

“Hello, Princess,” he grinned widely. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

 

“You must be Cooler.” Bulma stood up straight, and proud. Rage pulsed through her but she dared not do anything when he had a knife to Chi-Chi’s throat, and a gas bomb in his hand. 

 

He scoffed. 

 

“I’m Frieza!” He corrected shrilly. “And you’re going to do as I say, or I’m going to kill your friend. I wonder, can your healing powers work before she dies if I plunge this dagger into her neck, and drop this bomb?” 

 

“And kill yourself?” Bulma scoffed. “Would you really?” 

 

“If it meant killing you and winning this war for my father and brother, then yes.” He glared at her, then smirked. “Princess, I’m sure you would do the same for your father - oh but wait. He’s dead,” Frieza laughed cruelly and in a deranged sort of way. 

 

“Well, pity that.” He let go of Chi-Chi and shoved her into Bulma, who hurried to catch her. He held the bomb up and grinned. “It’s a new formula. The person who inhales it dies instantly. Not like the one I used on your castle. That one took a minute to work, but I’ve learned. This one.... will kill you before you can even think to heal someone,” he grinned. “So, you and the Queen here, climb up the ladder I’ve got just around the spire, or I kill you both.” 

 

This was the act of a deranged, desperate man. But he had a very, very good point. Bulma didn’t know if she could heal faster than the gas killed, and even if she could, could she keep healing her, and Chi-Chi while it dissipated? She had only just barely managed to make it out with Unus when they’d filled her room with gas, and that had been sleeping gas meant to trap her and not the poisonous gas that killed like they’d used on the rest of her home. 

 

But she knew one thing. King Cold and the older son were up there, and Frieza was taking them straight to him. He probably didn’t think they were a threat. She helped Chi-Chi to her feet, though the strong woman didn’t need help. Chi-Chi caught Bulma’s eye, then her eyes darted to the spire, then to her again. She looked down, then up. A subtle nod. Bulma thought she understood. Chi-Chi was trying to tell her to agree. 

 

“Fine,” Bulma went first, marching past Frieza and around the spire to see a rope ladder hanging out the highest window. Bulma, unafraid of heights and fueled by rage, climbed up the rope ladder. Chi-Chi was right behind her. 

 

“Oh, and my brother up there has more. If he sees me fall, he’ll throw one down at you- so don’t try kicking me off the ladder.” 

 

Bulma looked down at Chi-Chi, who now looked very nervous. Had that been her plan? With a pit in her stomach like no other, Bulma climbed up the ladder and in through the window. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light inside. By the time she could see, Chi-Chi had joined her, and Frieza was halfway inside. 

 

 

Three men stood inside the round stone room. A tall, pale man who looked like Frieza and wore a golden crown with long, shining amethyst horns like a bull. He had to be King Cold. He was uncommonly tall, and the horns on his crown made him look even taller. He, unlike Frieza, looked untouched. Beside him, stood a man who also resembled Frieza, only taller and with darker skin that suggested he spent more time in the sun. This must have been Cooler. He also wore wrap on his head rather than a crown, but it was adorned with amethyst and glass beads. 

 

And finally, standing just behind them, in long cotton and silk robes as was the style of the desert, though his were much less fine than the three Cold’s…. was Raditz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Editor** [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
>  **Beta reader** [Saiyanerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Super_Saiyanerd)  
>  This was a very hard chapter to write. I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I'll see you next week!


	21. Heads Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta find more then he can handle in the north, and Bulma takes drastic action in Chao.
> 
>  
> 
> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
> 

Vegeta 

This was the worst pain. It was so horrible, so unending that he longed for death. But death wouldn’t come. Huge, and filled with a power that was not entirely his own, Vegeta trekked up the countryside, towards the truth. Towards his home. Tiny people buzzed around his feet, but he avoided them. Even while he was filled with pain and rage like he had never known before - some part of him also knew - knew that they weren’t to blame. That they were Bulma’s and hurting them would hurt her. So, he kept to the river until he was in the country, and then, then he ran, as fast as he could. 

Eventually, he saw the border between North and South. He didn't stop there to check on anyone, but ran beyond, all the way to his home. The cold didn’t bother him, and neither did the running. Somehow, he was able to move beyond the normal limits of endurance. This was the power of Vegetabilis. With his size and speed, he reached his home faster than even Ember could fly. At the edge of town, he stopped and glared out over the city, looking for signs of movement. There were none. He roared in anger and crashed through the town and through the wall around his own castle. The courtyard was littered with bodies. He recognized face after face and yet he didn’t see a single attacker. No one stood to fight him. 

There was no enemy here. 

That knowledge deflated him. He shrank agonizingly into his own, human form. He struggled to his still changing feet and hobbled into the castle. He had to find his family. He had to make sure that they were actually all just fine. They would be okay. They would. As he hobbled, his feet became his own, and he was able to walk normally and then run. He checked the throne room first. Empty. 

The lounge? He sprinted through the cold stone halls and crashed through the door, searching wildly. 

Tarble was there. Curled up on the sofa, hugging himself. Dead. Beside him, on the ground, was a handmaid. It looked like she’d been trying to comfort him. It was too much. He couldn’t process it. He couldn’t handle it. 

The sight of his youngest brother, dead made him aware of his own nakedness, in ways the cold couldn’t. He then stumbled out of the lounge and went to his own rooms. They were bizarrely untouched. Clean as they had been when he’d left in such a hurry. He dressed, as he normally had. His mind in a haze of pain, and numbness. 

When he was proper, he went to his parents’ room. His father was in bed, alone. He looked frozen, as he lay stretched out on his back, one arm lying spread across the bed. Vegeta imagined his mother would have been there, sleeping in his arms. She probably went to protect her children. He didn’t go further into their room, but rather he went to find Fasha.  
He checked her room, but it was empty, so he tried Gohan's and he found them both. Fasha was laying on her side, on Gohan’s bed, Hugging him to her chest. Her face was twisted in fear. Tears were still frozen to her cheeks. He couldn’t see Gohan’s face, but his arms were wrapped around his aunt. They had been scared. 

Vegeta went to them. Fasha’s eyes were twisted in such fear and pain. He reached out and pushed her hair from her face, and brushed against the frozen tears, that didn’t move. She was so cold. He looked around for a blanket and draped it over his sister and nephew so that they wouldn’t be cold anymore. The frozen drops glistened mockingly on her cheeks. He pressed his warm thumb against them until they melted and wiped them away. 

“You little fool,” he sobbed, falling to his knees by the bed and hugging them to his chest, while he howled in the worst pain he had ever felt. 

Sometime later, exhausted and numb, he tucked Fasha and Gohan in again and left them. He went around the castle and one by one, tucked his family in with warm blankets as if they were all just asleep. As if they were all just - waiting. 

He couldn’t find his mother, though. Some small part of him couldn’t help the spark of hope that gave him. The little ray of light. Maybe she’d survived? Maybe, somehow - her illness and being healed from it made her immune to the gas? 

The northern tradition was to bury the dead and return them to the roots of the earth, from where they originally came. So, while keeping his eyes peeled for his mother, he went looking for a shovel. He found one in the tool shed and left the courtyard. He passed Nappa on the way. 

Everyone in his family had been buried in the same graveyard for hundreds of years. The royal grave behind the castle. He went there and began digging. The hard, wooden shovel blistered his hands as he forced the spade into the frozen earth. Each bit of cold rock he managed to move took great effort, and before long his muscles were aching painfully. But he didn’t care. He dug and dug and dug, well into the cold night. 

He didn’t stop until a low growl drew his gaze up. There was a wolf crouched low, hackles raised. Vegeta felt a spike of rage at the creature. Vegetabilis moved inside him. The wolf must have sensed something because its hackles dropped, it whimpered, and ran off with its tail between its legs. Vegeta kept on digging. 

After hours of work, he had a 13-foot-deep, 6-foot-wide hole dug. Big enough for all of them. He climbed out, and one by one he went to his loved ones and carried them out to the grave. He was as gentle as he could be, as he detangled Fasha from Gohan. He laid his father down and left a space for his mother in case he found her. Then., Fasha was next to Gohan, and Tarble was between his mother’s spot and Fasha. He put the handmaid, whose name he didn’t know next to Tarble. 

He had suspected for some time that Tarble was in love with a servant. He didn’t know for sure it was this girl, but she had died comforting him. She deserved the same respect as they did. He even carried Nappa to the grave and laid him down beside Gohan. 

He went back to the castle and started looking through it more thoroughly for his mother. He started with all the most likely places, from the lounges they used to discuss important things, to the kitchens, until he was almost frantic, hopefully searching through guest rooms. Nothing. Maybe she had survived, somehow? If he were her, where would he have gone if he’d survived and was left alone, and stranded in this place? Where was safe and warm, and where could she get food and wate… 

No sooner had he thought the word, then he was sprinting through the stone halls and down, down into the hot spring room. It was perfect! She’d be in here, where it was warm, and where she had fresh drinking water! It was the only place she could be! He ran so fast down the hall that he couldn’t stop and slammed into the heavy doors, before ripping them open. 

A wave of heat and moisture washed over him, unpleasant in his flushed state. He looked wildly around the room, peering through the fog when he saw - much to his surprise…  
“Piccolo?” He said, frowning at the tall Namekian, who glared back at him. 

“Vegeta!” He had been sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. He jumped up, and rushed over to him, long cloak billowing behind him. “What are you doing here?” He demanded, torn between happiness and anger as he stood between Vegeta and the door. 

“It’s my home. I have every right to be here! You’re alive? How? Did the gas not penetrate down here? Why didn’t you bring my sister with-” 

“It did. It filled this room, and it lingered here longer than the rest of the castle because of the spring. The tunnels for the river must have let it in more easily. I stayed with her and Gohan, though. Until the end.” He crossed his arms and turned to leave. “I won’t say I’m not relieved to see you, but I will say I’m pissed that you would bring Bulma here after the attack.” 

“What? I didn’t bring her. Was my mother in there with you?” Vegeta turned on the spot, looking for anyone else in the stone room. 

“No. So just you and Ember, huh? Well, I can’t say I blame you. We should get back soon though.” 

Vegeta stood in the middle of the hot room and looked around it again and again. “No Ember... just me." He said vaugely. "I need to find her. My mother,” he explained. “She’s…” 

“I’ll help you look. Come on.” Piccolo went back to Vegeta and steered him out of the hot spring and up the hall.  
“How are you alive?” He asked, suddenly realizing that it was very odd for Piccolo to be here.  
“I told you, their gas doesn’t work on Namekians. Don’t know why, but it didn’t work when they attacked the Isle of Life either.” 

Vegeta just nodded and continued the search for his mother. The two men started searching every room in the castle, sweeping it from one end to the other. It was a whole lot of nothing and nothing. Eventually, out of desperation, they checked the Military barracks along the wall surrounding the castle. Vegeta checked the main area, and Piccolo checked the commander's room, though Vegeta didn’t think she’d be in there. He knew who would be, though. His uncle. 

He searched the rows of beds, and when he didn’t see her, he looked up at Piccolo’s broad back, filling the doorway to the commander's room. Normally it was Nappa’s, but with his uncle in town, it had been his. Piccolo stepped inside and shut the door behind him. That was so odd, that Vegeta ran to the door and burst through - what did the Namekian find that he was trying to hide? 

Piccolo was bent over the bed, his cloak blocking it from view as he moved something - Vegeta saw a dark head that wasn’t Bardock’s and bolted forward to jerk the fabric aside.  
“No!” Piccolo yelled and tried to further block Vegeta, but it was too late. He’d already seen. 

Bardock lay in bed on his back, naked. Straddling his hips and hunched over Bardock’s chest was…. His mother. It looked like she had been having sex and just… slumped over, on to Bardock’s chest when the gas hit. chest when the gas hit. 

Piccolo stepped in front of Vegeta, blocking his mother and uncle from view.  
“Dammit, why don’t you listen!” Piccolo scolded as he pried the two apart. Vegeta was just a shell now. An empty shell. He hardly noticed when Piccolo finally stood up straight and turned around, carrying his mother wrapped in a sheet. 

“No,” Vegeta said shaking his head. “No. They weren’t… They weren’t…. She wouldn’t betray my father. She wouldn’t. She loves him.” 

“Yeah, she wouldn’t. It wasn’t what it looked like.” Piccolo said quickly. “Come on. What have you done with the rest of your family?” 

“Outside,” Vegeta grunted and turned to lead Piccolo to the grave he’d dug. It was a misunderstanding. It had to be. His mother wouldn’t… She hadn’t… all those years. All those times people said Goku looked more like Bardock than his father - all those times… they’d laughed it off. Saying Bardock looked like their grandfather, so maybe the stupid hair skipped a generation this time. They’d all…. laughed it off. 

But the resemblance was too uncanny. How many of his siblings were Bardock’s, Vegeta wondered? 

“Hey,” Piccolo said, his voice demanding. “It doesn’t matter. She loved you, and she loved your siblings. So did your father. I know what you’re thinking, and it doesn’t matter.” 

Vegeta scoffed and laughed mirthlessly.  
“You’re right. It doesn’t matter. They’re all dead now.” 

Piccolo carried Gine to the grave behind Vegeta and laid her down beside his father. This was all wrong. She shouldn’t be there, beside his father. Naked and probably still with Bardock’s seed inside her - but piccolo was right. It didn’t matter. 

He stood back and looked over his loved ones. Everyone was here, except for Raditz, and Goku. He’d have to go find them on his way back. He picked up the spade and buried them one shovel full at a time. Piccolo helped, by pushing in the pile of freshly turned earth with his bare hands. 

When the last bit of earth was laid over them, Piccolo left the graveyard. Vegeta got to his knees and did something he hadn't done in a very long time. He prayed. He pleaded with God to welcome his family into her arms, and to care for them always. To give them eternal paradise. To forgive him for his abandonment of them, even though he didn’t deserve it. Even though it wasn’t his fault. He prayed for God to forgive his mother, and he prayed that Fasha, in her afterlife would understand that he loved her and wasn’t mad at her. 

His fiery, hot-headed, little sister. Whom he loved. He wasn’t mad at her. He loved her. It was good she would never know what he’d just found out. He couldn’t forgive the Colds. It was the Colds who would pay. And he prayed for the power to make them pay. 

And then he just sat there, kneeling in the frozen dirt and stared at the freshly dug earth where his family lay, asleep forever. He longed for them. For Fasha to appear before him and punch him for being so dramatic. He longed for the wise look his father would give him and the silly easy nature of Tarble and Gohan as they planned some wild adventure. He longed to forget what he had learned today. 

He looked up, over the frozen field. It was here that the swarm of decennium pestis had attacked them. He’d only barely managed to save Tarble. He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt and looked at his scar covered arm. They meant nothing now. He’d paid the price to save his youngest brother, but it didn’t matter anymore. 

He wondered what Bulma would say. Bulma, who would understand better than anyone how he felt now. He longed to see her. For her to be here with him, to comfort him while he suffered so. But he’d left her behind, to protect her. He wasn’t sorry he had done it either. She would be safe in the South when he got back to her. 

That single thought gave him the strength he needed to stand up and do what had to be done. Inside the castle, he lit a torch and began walking up and down the halls, dragging it across tapestries. This place was dead now. He would burn it and the entire city down. 

He went from room to room, hardly caring about his path and whether or not he would trap himself in the castle. His own room gave him pause. He looked around at a lifetime's worth of possessions. There were only two things in this room he wanted to save. The portrait of his family and the sword his father had given him. He strapped the sword to his belt and removed the painting from the wall. The rest could burn. He would never be able to seek his father’s advice again. Never feel his mother’s warm embrace or hear Fasha’s exasperated laugh. 

He had dropped the torch and left the castle with only the clothes on his back, and the painting of his family. Piccolo joined him, and turned his back when he started stripping, and piling the clothes with the sword and painting. 

He moved away from the pile, and Piccolo. When he was about thirty feet or so away, he called Vegetabilis to the surface. This transformation was almost painless, he noticed. It certainly didn’t feel good, but it didn’t hurt as much as all the ones before. He didn’t bother pondering this. The ape took over, and his most primal needs became much harder to control. 

He wanted to kill the Colds. He wanted to have Bulma - somehow have her. Own her. Possess her. Fuck her. Feel her arms around him while he wailed his pain. That was more him than the ape. He wanted all of those now, and they were all… South. He started towards it. Thinking he’d skip the Isle of Life and just go straight for the Colds, but that meant seeing Bulma, and getting comfort later. 

He moved deliberately towards The Isle of Life but stopped when he remembered his cargo. The painting, the sword, Bulma’s Piccolo. He lifted the small things into his hand as gently as he could, and continued on his path, while behind him the capital of Vegeta burned. Piccolo climbed up onto his shoulder and held on. 

 

It was a great effort to keep from running to his desire, so he didn’t bother. It was safe now, there was no one here. No one to hurt. So, he ran. He sprinted even, going as fast as he could for as long as he could until he reached the South, and its cities full of still alive people. He would have to wade through the rivers again, but at least this time it would be going downstream. His feet were sore from the running, and the cool water felt nice anyway. 

Here, he walked. Tall and proud. His shadow drifting over the countrysides and towns as he passed. The ape pushed him forward, so he kept going. He was only just able to steer the path and keep from stepping on anyone, or any boats. He had to move a few out of his way and set them behind him back in the river. His footfalls still caused some chaos, but he couldn’t avoid that. 

The trees along the shore showed signs of damage from his trek up north. Those were the pink trees Bulma liked so much. They were barren now - the damn things. Why were they so weak! Why were they so PATHETIC? He ripped one from the ground and snapped it in two. He was going to drop it, but there were people along the river, so he forced himself to throw it as hard as he could, into the forest, where there were no people. 

Part of him expected to see terrified people looking up at him as he approached the castle, but instead he saw bright faces, waving at him and jumping in their delight. This was… odd. Even the great ape found this interesting enough to make it easy for Vegeta to come to a total stop outside the castle, by the balcony where he’d left her. 

Krillin burst through the curtains and into sight, waving at him frantically. Vegeta thought he knew what Krillin was worried about, so as to demonstrate his power he carefully set his sword, the painting, and Piccolo down beside him. Krillin jumped at the sight of Piccolo and shook his head frantically. 

He was shouting something, but what - Vegeta didn’t know. He bent down, eyes narrowed. 

“IT’S BULMA!” Krillin shouted. “BULMA WENT SOUTH! TO CHAO! ON EMBER! SHE TOOK OFF WITH A BAG OF GAS BOMBS AND CHI-CHI!!! WE NEED TO GO AND GET HER!! TAKE ME WITH YOU AND I’LL-” 

But he didn’t hear any more of what Krillin was so desperately yelling. 

“BULMA!?” He roared and stood up straight, fists clenched. A blind raged filled him at the thought of Bulma in danger. She was in Chao, which meant everything he wanted was further South. Revenge, and his Bulma. 

He roared and didn’t notice how the ground beneath him shook, and how the bright faces turned to ones of fear. He took off, sprinting much faster than he ever had because now, for the first time Vegeta and the Ape wanted the same thing, in the same way. Behind him, Piccolo and Krillin shouted, but he didn’t pay them any mind. 

The fact that he’d kept to the river was lucky, but he didn’t bother stepping over the bridges he passed but broke through them until he was in open fields again. Nothing mattered - nothing. If Bulma was south that meant she had to be in danger - that she too was going to die at the hands of the Colds, and he’d have lost everything he knew and loved. 

He wouldn’t lose her too. He couldn’t. It was unfathomable. The world would cease if she were to die as well. The ground shook horribly under each step, and when he got to the Great Southern passage, he leapt clean over it and landed with such a crash on the other side that it left a sizeable crater. 

The green lush country around him was brown, dry and desert now. The hot sand burned his feet, but he didn’t care - he kept sprinting and sprinting south. He only knew of Chao what Chi-Chi had told them. A huge walled city with a massive spire in the middle. So, he ran past all the cities that didn’t have spires. All the places that weren’t capitals and kept running until - finally he spotted a spire in the distance. It was no taller than he was. Vegeta crashed towards the city, the ape ready to smash every part of it - but Vegeta tugged hard on the reigns. 

“IF YOU DO THAT YOU’LL KILL HER! STOP!” He thought, and the ape dug in his heels to stop just short of the wall. Inside, there was chaos. Small ant-like people fighting one another and pushing into the castle. He searched the skies for some sign of the flaming horse, but when he didn’t see anything in the blue skies, he looked back to the city, and the castle around the base of the spire- and saw it. 

Ember stood on the roof - no flames adorned his eyes or hoofs, and the wings of flame were gone completely. He stood, unmoving, but he did lift his head to look at Vegeta with black, empty eye sockets. But if Ember was here, and he was dead - that meant that… 

 

His voice shook the ground, the spire, and the very sky. 

\------- 

Bulma 

“Raditz!” Chi-Chi exclaimed somewhere between confused and delighted. “What-?” She looked around at the three Colds and her brother-in-law. Bulma took a deliberate step back. 

“So, you never went to the southern wall?” Bulma asked, already knowing the answer. Raditz smirked at her, much like he had that day in the forest. 

“Nope. I went where I’d get what’s rightfully mine,” he nodded towards King Cold. 

“Well, isn’t this a touching reunion,” Frieza mocked and rolled his eyes. “But we’ve got more pressing matters to attend to, Woman.” He looked at Bulma, who raised her eyebrows at him. “Call off the horde, and we’ll let you and the Queen live.” 

Bulma looked off, into the middle distance and didn’t respond. 

“WOMAN!” Frieza shrieked. Chi-Chi took a sideways step towards Bulma, putting them shoulder to shoulder. Bulma tore her eyes away from the lofty middle distance to see Chi-Chi throw an absolutely terrified look at the eldest son, Cooler. He was staring at her, with a predatory smirk not unlike the one Raditz had worn when he came at Bulma. 

Had he raped Chi-Chi while she was held prisoner here? She had told them she’d been raped, but Bulma had thought it was guards or something. Not that she thought about it, it didn’t make sense for guards to be allowed to rape a Queen, when there was a perfectly good royal snot upstairs. Bulma’s stomach dropped. She’d brought Chi-Chi right back into the arms of her rapist. 

She reached sideways, took her hand and squeezed it.  
“We’ll die, before we let them touch us again,” Bulma told her. Chi-Chi squeezed her hand back and nodded determinedly. 

“Oh, you think so, do you?” Cooler chuckled, his voice silky. 

“WOMAN!” Frieza stepped forward and grabbed the front of Bulma’s coat. “I AM TALKING TO YOU!” 

“Who? Pardon, but my name is Princess Bulma, I don’t know any “woman” She managed to keep her tone light, despite the pain of being jerked forward like that. Frieza made a guttural, enraged sound and slapped Bulma hard across the face. She healed herself and stood up straight, smirking. 

“Call off the horde!” He repeated. 

“I can’t,” She shrugged. “Once the dead is risen, it’s out of my control.” 

Raditz laughed. Everyone looked at him, except Cooler who kept leering at Chi-Chi 

“Well, what’s it to us? The rest of your army is right outside, Sire. They’ll make it into the city in no time, and when they do, they’ll take care of this horde of dead. They can’t get in here, so we’ll just have to wait it out. Fire Mountain is decimated, and we’ve got their Queen, Vegeta is destroyed now too, and you’ve got the healing Princess. You’ve all but won this war, sire.” 

King Cold fixed Raditz with a cool look, only smiling once the Saiyan had finished his examination of the situation. 

“Yes,” he agreed. “It seems I have.” 

“We have, Father,” Cooler agreed. “Now we just wait. Wait for our guards.” 

“We’ve won because of your brother’s gas, Cooler. Don’t go getting too pleased with yourself,” the King scoffed. Cooler threw a resentful look to Frieza, who smiled proudly. “Raditz, you kept your end of the deal. When we don’t need the ‘Princess’ for her gifts, you’re free to do with her as you like,” the King gestured lazily to Bulma as he took a seat on one of the more comfortable looking chairs and began sipping a cup of wine lazily. 

Raditz grinned wickedly, stepped around Cooler, and made towards Bulma. Chi-Chi tried to step in front of her. What was to be done now? Bulma’s mind raced. She couldn’t overpower Raditz again, he wasn’t going to let his guard down like he had before. Cooler was right beside Raditz, wearing an expression that was just as horrible. Behind them, Frieza joined his father on a pouf, with a cup of wine. If they were separated, Bulma wouldn’t be able to heal Chi-Chi. 

“No!” She grabbed Chi-Chi’s arm and clung to her. Neither man stopped. “No!” She shouted again, this time with more authority in her tone. 

Neither of them even paused. They grabbed the two women and tore them apart. Chi-Chi landed a few good kicks and punches on Cooler, while Bulma aimed a kick right at Raditz’s groin. Pain throbbed through her heel and shook her leg - he was wearing a metal cup.  
“Not again, Princess,” he laughed darkly and pinned her to the stone wall. “This time, you’re mine and no one will come to save you. Not my brother, not the Namekian, not that dyke who follows you around.” He pinned her hands to the wall as she struggled and bent over her - his mouth finding her neck and hungrily licking at it. 

She winced and tried pushing against his impossibly broad shoulder - she tried to get a good look at Chi-Chi, who was fighting Cooler. But she couldn’t see her. She couldn’t see anything over Raditz’s shoulder and long dark mane. 

“Keep fighting,” he whispered in her ear, his gruff voice oddly soft. She tried to knee him in the stomach, but he kicked her legs apart roughly and pinned her with his pelvis. “I’m on your side,” he whispered again, his mouth so close to her ear that his lips actually touched her skin. 

She understood what he was saying and couldn’t mask the look of shock on her face - but she didn’t have too. His shoulder and hair hid her from view as much as it hid Chi-Chi from her. “Keep pretending!” He hissed. She gathered herself and groaned furiously. She thrashed, though now feebly. Raditz let go of her hands and used his own size as cover for taking a short sword from his belt and pressing it into her hands. 

“Hide it,” he hissed again, then loudly made a groan of pleasure that made her shutter. She slipped the sword behind her back, hoping her long nightdress and coat would hide it. Raditz pulled his mouth away from her neck and looked over his shoulder at the King. 

“Hey, Sire. I’m gonna take her upstairs if you don’t mind. Hard for me to uh… enjoy myself with Prince Cooler grunting over here. Can’t really get it up with a man moaning behind me, you know?” He joked, making the King chuckle. 

“Yes, yes, of course, go have your fun. I’d say be gentle with her… but, do your worst. Just don’t kill her, of course,” he laughed, a little too hard. Raditz grinned and turned back to Bulma, who’d used the moment of their distraction to slip the sword under her coat. Raditz grabbed her around the waist, and she made a show of struggling while he dragged her up the stone stairs. Cooler had gotten too far with Chi-Chi- She was gagged and pinned with her face against the wall with Cooler's knee in the small of her back while he struggled to tie her arms with his belt. 

Bulma healed her, just as the ground shook under them. Everyone froze and looked towards the window. Outside was just the city, and the massive desert - but the ground shook again, and again. Each shake was harder than the last, and slowly a distant booming accompanied each new rattle of the building. 

“What on earth is that?” Frieza got to his feet and strolled to the window, and looked out it, the gas bomb left unattended by his chair. Even Cooler paused to look outside, after he tied one final knot around Chi-Chi’s arms. Raditz quietly set Bulma down, eyes locked on the window. King Cold didn’t get up, but he did lean forward in his chair, waiting to hear what his son’s saw. 

At that moment, many things happened at once. Bulma unsheathed the short sword, slipped out of her cumbersome coat and leapt off the stairs. She flew through the air and landed on Cold, blade first. Chi-Chi pushed to her feet, and with her arms still tied behind her back she placed a well-aimed kick on the small of Cooler’s back and sent him flying out the window, just as Bulma’s blade pierced King Cold’s back and she crashed into him. 

Frieza spun around, eyes wide just in time to see his father crash to the ground in a heap with Bulma on top of him. He started to run at them, but Chi-Chi’s shoulder slammed into him, knocking them both to the ground, and successfully keeping him from reaching the gas bomb. Raditz looked around in shock - momentarily stunned at the speed of the attack, just as Bulma scurried to her feet and pulled the sword from King Cold’s back. She lifted it high in the sky and brought it down on his neck as hard as she could. 

His head separated from his neck and rolled to the side. That seemed to snap Raditz out of it, because he dove from the stairs to tackle Frieza, who was nearly to his feet again, having had the benefit of both arms free. 

Bulma rushed to Chi-Chi and fumbled with the belt around her wrists for a frustrating moment while the booms got closer and closer as Raditz pinned Frieza down. Once Chi-Chi was free, she rushed to the window to look out - only she looked down, and gasped. Before Bulma could ask what was happening - Chi-Chi had run across the room, taken the abandoned gas bomb from where Frieza had left it, and thrown it down out the window. There was the sound of a “poof!” outside and she stepped back from the open window. 

“He had grabbed the ladder,” Chi-Chi panted and pulled the sword from King Cold’s sheath to point at Raditz. 

“Chi-Chi no! He’s on our side!” Bulma shouted just in time to keep Chi-Chi from spearing him from behind. She threw a puzzled look to Bulma. “He gave me the sword and let me go!” Chi-Chi stepped back and watched Raditz fight to tie up Frieza, who seemed to be strong enough to give the huge man a hard time. 

Bulma and Chi-Chi had the same idea at the same time and rushed to Raditz side, putting their blades to Frieza's neck. 

He stopped struggling and held his hands up reluctantly. Raditz tied him with the belt Cooler had used and added King Cold’s and Frieza's own belt to make sure he was good and truly bound. When he was, both women lowered their blades. 

The ground had stopped shaking. Bulma and Chi-Chi both went to the window and looked around. Bulma looked down and saw that the gas had worked. It had killed Cooler. A little way away from him, she saw Ember. The gas had gotten him too, again. He was properly dead now. But aside from that, they didn’t see anything, whatever was causing the booms and shakes was on the other side of the spire. 

At that moment, a huge, terrible, anguish-filled voice shook the very world. 

“MY BULMA!!” 

The three allies exchanged startled looks. Raditz looked up, at the stairs. That voice - it had to be Vegeta! The Ape! He was here - he had come for her. But if he saw Ember, laying on the roof, dead, then he would assume the worst about her, and go on a rampage. She moved before she thought and snatched up King Cold’s severed head. 

“There’s a balcony upstairs!” Raditz shouted, and Bulma flew up the stairs. Behind her, she heard Chi-Chi say  
“What was that?!” 

Bulma didn’t take in this room, but saw only the door and dashed out, onto the half-sphere shaped rail-less balcony and into blinding bright light. The wind pelted against her, but she stood straight-backed and held King Cold’s head in front of her by the hair. When her eyes had adjusted - she could see Vegeta in his massive ape form, looking around frantically for her towards the ground. 

She still had the sword in her hand, so she used it to reflect a glint of sun in his eyes to get his attention. He winced and looked up, ape face twisted with rage - until he saw her standing there, holding out King Cold’s head, proudly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> Surprise chapter! Posted a bit sooner then usual to celebrate the holiday! I hope you enjoy it! This is such a big one for the fic! Please let me know what you think! I love hearing ya'll options!


	22. Rademption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edited by:  
> [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
>  

The wind whipped at her night dress, and for a moment, the world was still. She didn’t know what she’d expected, as she held up King Cold’s head and stared at the huge red eyes of the great ape. What she hadn’t been expecting him to start shrinking. He would be in grave danger as a man on the ground, with the dead. So she ran to the ledge, dropped the sword and reached for him. 

He saw her, stepped over the wall, and gripped either side of the spire with both huge hands, and loomed over her, his head so large still that she was barley as wide as the bridge of his nose. Slowly, he shrank, and as he did he pulled himself up, onto the spire. Eventually, the still furry, half ape man pulled himself onto the balcony. Bulma tossed cold’s head behind her, into the tower and ran to him. 

He stumbled forward, sending them both to the ground as she tried to catch him. She landed hard on her butt, but she notice as his thick arms closed around her. 

“My Bulma.” He choked, his voice still lower than usual, and growl like. She hugged him back, tears leaping to her eyes as she held him. “I thought I’d lost you.” He confessed, his voice gruff and broken. Wetness seeped into her night dress and onto her shoulder. “I couldn’t lose you, not you too.” He cried. 

Bulma hugged him as hard as she could,not caring that she was covered in blood, or that he was naked. Neither of them cared. She just held him, and healed him as he held her. Both were so relieved that the other was okay, that it was all they could do to cling to another desperately. There was only one thing important enough to end their moment. 

“I got him.” She choked back, her own voice just as broken. “Cold. He’s dead. So is his eldest.” They parted enough to look at one another's faces. “Chichi killed Cooler, and Frieza is tied up.” She wiped her face on the back of her coat and sniffled. “Ember-” 

“I saw.” He sat back on his knees, arms still around her. “You killed him. You killed Cold.” He shook his head in disbelief as his black eyes searched her face. “You’re my strong woman, Bulma. You’ve always been strong.” 

“It was because of you, though.” She said, voice still choking on tears. “When you ran up, the sound of your foot steppes shaking the ground distracted them. Cooler was going to rape Chichi again and- and Oh! Vegeta, you won’t believe it- it’s- Raditz! He’s here! He saved us! We haven’t had time to talk, but I think when he was sent to the wall he came here, and used his banishment to sneak into their ranks. He must have been the one who told Fasha about the gas attack- He gave me a sword, and tied up Frieza- He-” She searched his face for sign of anger, or shock, but he was looking over her shoulder, behind her. She turned and saw Raditz standing in the doorway, looking worried. 

Vegeta got to his feet, and helped Bulma up, eyes still on his brother. He stepped around Bulma and approached Raditz wordlessly. Bulma worried for a moment that he might attack Raditz, and for a minute, two men exchanged looks. 

Raditz than shocked them all, and dropped to one knee, falling into the same position Goku and the rest of Vegeta’s family had taken after he’d first transformed on his coronation night. Bulma clapped her hands over her mouth, and stared at Vegeta, hoping beyond hope that he wasn’t going to do anything cruel. Raditz had tears rolling silently down his cheeks. 

Vegeta stepped forward, and for a moment Bulma thought he was going to punch Raditz, but instead he pulled his brother into a bone breaking hug, and slapped his back. Raditz looked shocked for a second before returning the gesture, and slapping his brother’s back, just as hard. 

Bulma couldn’t stop herself from sobbing in relief, and joy, and pain at her fresh losses. She thought the back slapping was a bit much, but it must be a macho thing to turn a hug into a contest. Raditz was so tall that being on his knees didn’t hinder the hug much. When they parted, Vegeta helped Raditz to his feet. 

“Is she right? Were you the one who warned Fasha about the fog?” Vegeta asked. Raditz nodded. “I’d been trying to get them to tell me more about their plans for a long time. I got here just as they were complaining about losing their big hostage, Queen chichi.” He turned and nodded politely to Chichi, who stood inside, watching the exchange with tired eyes. 

“I fed them information that was outdated, to get in his good graces and look for an opportunity to kill him. I told him why i’d been banished, and told him that if they ever captured Bulma i’d like to be her jailer, so i could.. Rape her, and they believed that was what I wanted from them. I tried to keep them from getting their hands on her, but i figured this way if they ever did capture her I could help her escape if they gave her to me. I did huh- have to put on a bit of a show when she first got here-” 

Vegeta’s curious look turned murderous. 

“I didn’t grope her though! I just made it look like i did- I think i licked her ear and neck so i could whisper to her- that’s it!” 

“Excuse me.” Bulma said, trying to sound cold but her voice was still choked with sobs. “If you’re apologizing, it should be to me.” 

Vegeta smirked proudly at her, and nodded. 

“Sorry. I had too though, you… you could see that, right?” He asked hopefully. Bulma sobed again, and nodded. Vegeta turned to her and pulled her into his arms. They embraced for a very long time, only moving when Chichi coughed awkwardly. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but we are sort of trapped by a horde of dead created by Bulma... with Frieza's army fixed to burst in. King Vegeta, if.. .if it’s possible for you to transform again, we could really stand to get out of here, and get back to the south with our new prisoner.” Chichi kicked Frieza forward, who fell to his face, and winced.  
“The nerze of-”  
“Oh shut it.” Chichi barked and kicked him in the back. 

Vegeta looked back out over the desert waste land.  
“Yeah. I need water though.” 

“We have some provisions.” Raditz stepped into the spire. Vegeta and Bulma followed, still half holding one another. Inside was a lavish kingly bed chamber. Raditz poured a glass of wine and offered it to his brother.

“No water, but plenty of weak, crappy wine.” Raditz explained. Vegeta downed the glass in two gulps, and looked at the empty goblet in disgust. 

“It’s basically water.” He grabbed the pitcher and took a few long drags directly from it. When he was done, he wiped his mouth on his bare arm and offered it to Bulma, who only now realized how thirsty she was. She took a few long drinks, and offered it to Chichi, who accepted. 

“The nearest support bace is about half a days march from here, I think we have time for you to rest for a while before we go, if you need to.” Raditz offered. Vegeta gave a disgusted look to the room.

“No. I’m not spending the night in that trash’s bed. We’ll go now.” He turned and started towards the Balcony. 

“WIll you be okay?” Bulma asked. “You must be tired! Did you sleep while you were in the south?” 

He shrugged. “I can get us back to the Isle of Life before passing out.” 

“Maybe not all the way back. Just to the southernmost Border, we can commindeer one of my navy’s ships and take that the rest of the way home. Vegeta pulled Bulma into another embrace, and kissed her. He must have been very tired. 

“Alright. I’ll get Ember, too. So we can see him off properly.” The mention of her friend, her longest friend made her choke on a pained sob again. She nodded against his shoulder, and kissed his cheek. 

He let her go, and sat on the ledge of the balcony before he began turning into the great ape again. This time, it happened much more slowly than Bulma had ever seen. She hoped this didn’t mean he was in pain longer, but as his body twisted and snapped as it changed, she couldn’t imagine how it didn’t hurt. When he was big enough, he jumped off the ledge, and hit the castle roof with a huge crash. 

They gathered on the balcony, and watched as he steadily grew and grew. He wasn't as huge as he had been before, but he was at least as tall as the spire. On the ground, the dead attacked his feet. He kicked them away, and gently picked up Embers dead body with two huge fingers, and placed it in his left hand.

He held that hand open, to the balcony. Bulma made to climb on, but he pulled it back.  
“No. Frieza.” Bulma understood what he was asking for, and with Raditz help, pulled the tied up, now screaming prince across the stone balcony and threw him onto Vegeta’s hand. He closed his fist around them, and held out his right hand for Bulma, Chichi, and Raditz. 

Bulma picked up the sword that she’d used to cut King Colds head off, and watched as Chichi picked up the actual head by the hair. They climbed on, and he eased them onto his shoulder. It was so large that Bulma could lay down if she wanted, but she didn't want too. Chichi and Raditz laid on their stomachs, and gripped his fur to keep themselves in place as he stood up straight and stepped over the wall. It was a little weird to hold on one handed. Bulma scooted as close as she could to his neck, and leaned sideways on him. 

There was almost no point in saying anything. So she sat there, while Vegeta carried the last three people he had in his family North, towards The Isle of Life. 

Though he’d said he wasn’t tired, the fact that he was smaller than before, and walked rather than running told Bulma a lot. He kept a steady pace, but it was well past nightfall when they reached the shore of the Great Southern Passage. She wondered how he would pass, but he didn’t hesitate to step into the water, and start swimming. For him, it was a short swim, but Bulma was still a little surprised that the water was deep enough to go to his shoulders. He did a careful turtle stroke, keeping his left fist and shoulders above water, but also not being afraid to submerge his left hand from time to time for a minute before bring it up. Bulma imagined it was horrible pain to Frieza, and she was glad he suffered it. 

By now, even Bulma was heavy lidded and exhausted. As Vegeta reached the shore and climbed onto land, there were shouts from the ground. The Isle of Life’s navy had swarmed around him and was ready to attack. They hadn’t had time to get word that he was an ally yet. 

He knelt on shore, and set Bulma, Raditz, and Chichi on the ground before he began shrinking. Right away sailors set in on them, blades up- but Bulma stood in front of all of them head high. 

“Lower your weapons!” She commanded, in her most powerful voice. The high ranking ones, who recognized her did as told at once, and their underlings followed suit. 

“Princess!” A sailor ran up to her. His dark blue silks, the four stars pinned to the chest, and the high quality of his sword hilt and leather shoes told her he was a Captain.“What on earth is-”

“This is King Vegeta, of The North. He just saved me, and Queen Chichi of Fire Mountain. We need a ship to take us the rest of the way home, to the Capitol. We’ve just killed King Cold, his eldest son Cooler, and taken his younger son Frieza as our prisoner.” Behind her, Vegeta finished shrinking to his normal size, and collapsed. She heard the thud of him hitting the ground, and turned to rush to him while stunned sailors watched them. She cast a look around the circle of them, healing them all and noting that the captain seemed to be the highest ranking man here. 

“It really is her!” One cried. 

“So- is the war over? Did we-”

“It may be. We can’t be sure yet. But… probably.” Bulma knelt beside Vegeta, and pulled him onto her shoulders. He was all muscle, so very, very heavy- but she managed it alone. “Take us to the fastest ship you have. We need to get back as soon as possible, and we need rest. This is the King's brother, he stays with us.” 

“Huh- Yes, your highness!” The commander bowed. Raditz crouched and pulled Vegeta onto his back. Bulma wanted to argue about this, but she knew Raditz would get them to the ship faster. The commander lead them down the docks towards a five mast longship.

“Princess, of course you’ll have the captain's room, but what of the guests? We-” 

“King Vegeta and I will share the captain's Cabin.” She said tiredly. 

“Than, Queen Chichi will take the Guest cabin, and we can have Prince Raditz in a sargents cabin- Come, forgive us, Your highness we’re not set for royal guests such as yourselves.” 

Bulma was so worn out by this point, that she didn’t care. She nodded, and followed the commander to the Captain's Cabin. Raditz laid Vegeta down on the plain, but comfortable bed, and bowed to Bulma before following another sailor to the cabin he would be given.

“Captain, thank you for your quick action, and hospitality. I know you had no way to know I would be here, and no time to prepare. Neither I, nor my companions expect luxury while we sail.”

“Princess, It’s an honor to bring you home.” He bowed, low. “This is a big port, and my crew was prepared to set sail in the morning anyway. We’ll leave as soon as the tides allow, but please rest.”

“I will. Thank you, Captain.” She gave a approving nod, which was the most respect she could really pay one of her subjects without going to overboard. At this point, she was too tired to try and think of much else she could do. 

When she was inside, and the door barred shut, She shrugged off her coat, and climbed into bed beside the snoring Vegeta. She tucked him in, and let herself snuggle up to his side, and kiss his shoulder fondly. Comfortable for the first time in days, she began drifting to sleep to the sounds of the crew franticly gathering supplies to set sail outside her door. 

\---------------------

When Bulma woke, it was to the feeling of Vegeta pressing down on her from above, his mouth on her neck, his weight pinning her to the lumpy mattress. She blinked herself awake, and wriggled under him to stretch, and wrap both arms around his shoulders. 

“You’re awake?” She mewled tiredly. She didn’t know how long they’d been asleep, but it couldn’t have been long from how exhausted she felt. 

“Bulma, you’re mine.” he growled, his voice so deep Bulma wriggled urgently and twisted to get a look at his eyes for fear that she’d find them glowing red, but she couldn’t twist enough to see his eyes as he pressed his face into her neck. His thick arms trapped her on either side, but she didn’t want to move, not really. 

“Of course I am.” She breathed. “And you’re mine. What’s wrong?” She asked. “You can sleep more, it’s alright.” 

He growled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into hers. She shook.  
“You’re MINE.” He said again. “I don’t care what those idiots in your parlament think.” 

“What?” She tried to squirm out from under him to sit up. But he didn’t allow it, and gripped her hips to keep her in place. Had he somehow heard from them? 

“Mine.” He said again. “I’ll kill them if they get in my way. You’re mine.”

“Vegeta, why would they stop our wedding? They- before I came to Chao we had a meeting and it was their idea to arrange a marriage between us- they think it’ll cement the remaining Saiyans loyalty to The Isle of Life,” She ran her hands up his chest and over his neck to cup his cheeks in both hands. “Why would you think they’d stop us from-”

“There won’t be any remaining Saiyans. Once they realize that they’ll want you to marry someone that will benefit your country. Someone from a strong allied country and not the King of Nothing.” He scoffed and pressed his face into her shoulder, and held her tightly. “But you’re mine. I won’t allow them to stop it. I don’t care what they-” 

With a stab of realization, Bulma noticed his shoulders were shaking. He was crying. After everything, he thought he’d lose her too, and really have nothing left. 

“They don’t get to decide who I marry, you know. They can tell me their opinion, but they can’t make the call.” She said softly. “And, they already view you, and Vegetabilis as a great asset, and there will be other Saiyans left, my love.” She wiggled her arms free and hugged him as hard as she could. “You had a whole navy, and plenty of soldiers deployed to aid The Isle, there will be hundreds of Saiyans left. Hundreds. This isn’t the end. It’s a horrible blow, but it’s not over.”

He jerked his head back to look at her, eyes wide with shock. 

“And the fog probably didn’t pass over the North West Cascade mountains, so you’ve got citizens there- Vegeta is still a strong ally. They won’t want back out of this arrangement, I promise. After all, Vegetabilis lead his people from the jungle to the arctic once. And the strong saiyans survived it. They’ll survive this too, because they have you, my love. And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

Vegeta was so shocked to hear this one bit of good news that he sat back on his knees, and stared at her with something of a dumb struck look in his handsome face. She sat up, and pulled him back into her arms, his head against her breast. 

“You’re mine. I’m not letting anyone take you from me, even my own parliament.” She whispered in his ear. He locked his arms around her waist, and snuggled into her chest as they sank back to the soft mattress. A few minutes later his breathe evened out, and he was asleep.

Bulma understood the fear he was feeling all too well. When she’d lost her father, and didn’t know if she’d even see her home again he’d been all but a stranger to her, and yet he’d still been a comfort. Now, it was her turn to comfort him. Her turn to hold him close, and let him move through the grieving process. 

Only now, he really had lost everyone he loved. Everyone except, her. He had Raditz now, that was true. But Bulma didn’t know if he loved Raditz as much as he loved his other brothers and Sister. Raditz had never been his favorite, even when they were kids he was a bit of a bully. She’d seen Vegeta chase him away from younger kids all the time. He must have felt like a nuisance to him. 

Even redeemed, Raditz was still almost more of a burden than a help. It still probably felt like a relief though, to know he wasn’t the only one left in his family. He might not even be thinking of Raditz as a burden yet, and maybe he never would. But with Bulma, came power, station, wealth, and comfort. Without her, he was left with scattered armies and a broken people with no means to lead them. 

She understood his fear. To him, Bulma was everything right now, and he worried that she’d be taken from him too. He’d lost so much, so fast. She ran her fingers through his hair when she felt him stir a little, to ease his pained mind. She would comfort him in anyway she could. She was determined of that, as the ship rocked her to sleep on gentle waves. 

 

\-----

It was brighter when she woke next time. She was still laying on her back, while Vegeta still snored with his head against her chest. The ship rose and fell under them, and Bulma was reminded of how much she’d loved sleeping on ships as a child. It was bliss to be rocked by the waves. But she couldn’t really enjoy it. Not now. 

She feared too much time has passed, so slipped out from under Vegeta’s arm and pulled the blood covered coat back on before tip toeing out of the Captains cabin. 

“Princess!” The captain greeted her straight away. “I hope you were able to sleep well. Is King Vegeta…?” 

“Still resting, thank you. He’ll need more time for recovery, and more healing. Is the prissinor secure?” 

“Yes, of course- and Princess we brought the body of your steed as well- I told the men it must be important if you bothered to bring it all this way. Queen Chichi and Prince Raditz are still resting as well.” He explained. Bulma glanced at the sky to see where the sun was to determine time of day. It was easily early evening already. 

“Before we set sail, we procured some clean ladies clothes for you and the Queen from the taylor in town. I know you said no luxury, but we had time while we waited for the tides to fetch you something more proper to wear. I’ll have it brought to you right away.” 

“Thank you. I’d like to wash too, if I can. A simple basin and a clean cloth and rag will do.” 

“Thank you for your understanding, Your highness. I’ll have it brought to your straight away.” 

A few minutes later they quietly brought the basin, wash rag, and soap to the Captain's room. The sailor carrying it set it down as quietly as he could, throwing a terrified look towards the bed. She should be more worried about this many people knowing she slept in the same bed as Vegeta, but Bulma was too worn out emotionally to care. 

When the sailor had left, she bared the door and stripped to kneel in front of the dish of cool, clean water and give herself a sponge bath. At some point, Vegeta woke with a start. 

“Bulma!?” He started when he found the bed empty. He leapt to his feet and looked wildly around the room for her- stopping only when his eyes landed on her, kneeling naked before the basin, rag in her hand. 

“Vegeta, it’s okay. I’m right here.” She bent to put the wet rag back in the basin so she could get to her feet, but he crossed the room and fell to his knees beside her before she could move. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. 

She leaned into him, and draped her arms across his. “I’m not leaving.” She promised. “I won’t go anywhere.” She twisted around in his arms and kissed his temple. He hung his head and rest it against her shoulder. Despite his iron like grip around her, he still seemed very lethargic. 

“You should go back to sleep.” She whispered. 

“I want to wash first.” He lifted his head with a decent amount of effort and looked her her over. His expression lacked it’s usual hunger when he saw her naked, but he looked dead on his knees, as it were. 

“Let me.” She offered, and dragged the basin around so she could reach it, and run the cloth over his scar covered chest. She tried not to think about how he’d gotten those scars. The memory of Tarble excitedly telling her about the bugs, and how vegeta had used his own cloak and protection to wrap his little brother up; made her chest ache so much she nearly teared up.

Vegeta loosened his grip, and let her kneel between his legs and wash him. He even gave a tired, but grateful little smile when she caught his eye, and kissed him softly. “Thank you.” He grunted, and stayed still until she was completely done washing him, and the basin water was filthy brown. She dumped it out the little cabin window, and had one of the sailors bring her some more clean water so that she could finish washing. 

Vegeta scarcely moved from where he sit kneeling on the floor, even as she sat back down and finished cleaning her own body. She was just as dirty as he was, so she needed a through wash. 

He took the rag from her rather unexpectedly and washed her back for her. She pulled her hair out of the way, and let him take his time. When they were both clean, and dry She had the sailor bring them some food, and brought it to the little bed they shared. Vegeta ate three bites of cheese, before he was asleep again, arm draped over her lap. She finished eating, and set the dirty plate on the bedside table. As she stretched to put it away, and she left Vegeta’s arms for a moment. The moment he wasn’t touching her, he was up, and pulled her back to him. She only just managed to set the plate down before she was sliding back across the bed to him. 

She sighed as he locked his arms around her waist again, and rest his head against her bosom. She didn’t know how long he was going to be this needy. Not forever, surely. But for now, it was welcome affection. She let herself fall back asleep, and had troubled dreams. She’d wake up every so often after seeing the faces of her loved ones, begging her to save them. Each time the dream would get too horrible, Vegeta would grip her waist a little harder, and she’d wake up. 

The rocking of the ship helped, but it wasn’t a restful night. Come morning though, she’d slept enough to function, and so had Vegeta- who stubbornly refused to let her go until she threatened to pee on him. When they were both dressed, Vegeta offered her his arm before they left the cabin. She took it, and was glad to have it. 

“Ah! Your highnesses!” The Captain rushed up to greet them. “Good Morning! You both look much better! I hope you slept well? We’ve had smooth waters so far!” He said proudly, as if he were responsible for them. 

“Take me to Frieza.” Vegeta said cooly. Bulma flushed a bit at his rudeness and smiled at the Captain. 

“Yes, thank you. We do need to see Frieza, though if you don’t mind.” Vegeta raised a brow at her, though he didn’t say anything as they followed the captain down to the lower decks. Frieza was chained with his arms wrapped around a post. Bulma thought his shoulders looked dislocated, and nearly healed him- but she caught herself. He sneered at them. 

“Ah good, the money and the whore have decided too-” But frieza couldn’t finish his sentence, as the sailor standing guard kicked him in the back of the head. 

“HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS THE PRINCESS IN SUCH A WAY!” He shouted. Vegeta smirked. 

“I like you, boy.” He chuckled and loomed over frieza. 

Frieza glared at them, bleeding from the head profusely. 

“Why did you attack us? What do you want?” Bulma asked, before Vegeta could say anything else. The Sailor who’d kicked Frezia, stood a little taller than he had before. 

“What do you think I wanted, you insuffera-” He stopped himself and threw a fearful look at the young Sailor. 

“To take over? It can’t be that simple.” Bulma scoffed. “If you really wanted to take over, you’d have had soldiers standing by to invade the north as soon as the fog had cleared. But you didn’t do that. You left it empty.” She looked down her nose at him, something that didn’t come very naturally to her. “So tell me what you wanted.” 

“My people need food, and clean water. It’s not our fault you decided to strand all your outcasts, and criminals to the far south- to the dessert’s and planes. There’s no farmland, and yet every major country in the world has been throwing their unwanteds to die in the heat. It’s not my fault my great, great, great grandfather or whatever stole someones pig out of starvation!” He scoffed and looked away from them, bitterly. Vegeta snorted drivitively. 

“So you wanted to take over the Isle of Life so you could move your people in?” Bulma asked, skeptically. She doubted he was telling the truth, but now that she didn’t have Ember anymore, she couldn’t ask him. 

“Of course. What ruler doesn’t want to take over?” He rolled his eyes. So he was lying. Bulma wanted to kick him, but she didn’t. She turned and left. He would be put to death, but only after he’d faced a trial. 

Chichi was still hauled up in her cabin, and didn’t want to come out when Bulma knocked. She just told them she needed to grieve through the door, and didn’t open it. 

Bulma and Vegeta spent a few minutes above deck, enjoying the view of the ocean, and coast as the ship sailed along. Four identical ships sailed around them, in a V pattern. It was to throw off anyone trying to attack them, Bulma knew. She was surprised at how well prepared the navy bey they’d landed on was for such a trip. She imagined it wasn’t easy to ready a ship for the would be queen, at war time. She would have to give the crew proper thanks when they got to the capitol. 

“How long until we get there?” Bulma asked. 

“Two days longer, Your highness. This is the fastest ship in the world, you know.” He said proudly. “Yes, fastest indeed.” 

Bulma smiled at him, but she couldn’t help but think that it was slow when you compared it to Ember, who got her to the capital of Chao in less than a day, and slower even than Vegeta who could make it in about the same, or less time. But Vegeta was exhausted, and Ember was dead. 

The more she thought about it, the more crippled she felt. Ember had meant fast, speedy travel for her. He’d meant freedom. Now, she would have to rely on official means of travel, which were slow at best. A seagull crowed in the sky. She looked up, and watched the gulls soaring above them, hardly having to flap their wings as the wind carried them.

She would never fly again. Never hear Embers deep, reassuring voice in her mind telling her to calm down, or saying something funny. He’d never be there to warm her, or deliver her to safety again. He’d never laugh at a joke, or say exactly what she was thinking so she wouldn’t get in trouble. 

She didn’t say anything, because she knew how much Vegeta was hurting, and she didn’t want to seek comfort from him after what he’d just gone through. She looked up at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds drifting overhead, and longed to be among them, and feel the wind in her hair. 

Vegeta leaned on the banister next to her, and looked up too. They both watched the sky, the cloulds, and the gulls for a long while, wordlessly before Vegeta wrapped an arm around her waist. She didn’t push him away, despite the many eyes of the sailors on them. 

“Ember loved you, you know.” He said softly. “He was… a remarkable being of such wisdom and grace. The world lost someone extraordinary when he fell, and so did you.” He said softly. 

“I know. He… He did something before he died. He slowed the world somehow, and told me he loved me, and that he was sorry. I don’t know how he did it- I don’t know how he did most of the amazing things he did.” She admitted. “I don’t know where he came from, what it was like. He never told me. I asked, several times and he always told me to just imagine hell.

“I wish i had known what he’d have wanted, as a burial. I suppose if anyone would want to be cremated, he would.” Bulma leaned into Vegeta’s arms, and rest her head on his shoulder. “What did you find in the north?” She asked, and looked up at him. “Do we need to go north and burry… everyone?” 

He shook his head. “I buried them, and burned down the castle after.” He said numbly, and in a way that suggested he didn’t want to talk about it. Bulma immediately thought of piccolo, and how namekians refused to be cremated. They were to be returned to the water- and now he would never get that. 

Vegeta of course didn’t know that, and in the horror of finding his loved ones dead, Bulma couldn’t blame him for not thinking of Piccolo- but the thought of his charred, burned body laying unmarked in ash up north made her choke on a sob as she tried to contain it. Vegeta tried to hold her, but she shook her head and stepped away from him. The last thing she could do now was tell him he’d hurt her without meaning too. She didn’t want to cause him any worry, but she couldn’t speak without sobbing. 

Bulma pressed her mouth to the back of her hand to stifle herself, and held a hand up to tell Vegeta she wanted to be left alone for a moment- but he ignored her, and pulled her back into his arms. Frustration heated her face and she shook her head as he held her.  
“It’s okay.” He said, comfortingly. “I miss them too.” 

He didn’t understand why she was crying, he thought she was sad for the loss of his family, and she was. She remembered the easy way Goku smiled and said whatever had been on his mind, and how that had been such a relief to her when she was suddenly in such a strict feeling culture- and how Gohan and Tarble had chatted so excitedly about the prospect of traveling south, and how Gohan had wanted to ride the longboats and race them on the rivers. She did love them. But she didn’t love them as she’d loved Ember. She didn’t love them as Vegeta had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys! Please let me know what you think! And tune in next time to find out what happens next!!
> 
> **Editor** [HannaBellLecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBellLecter/pseuds/HannaBellLecter)  
>  **Beta reader** [Saiyanerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Super_Saiyanerd)  
> 


	23. The Journey home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta return to the Isle of life, chests heavy with grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient and waiting so long for this update! <3 If you haven't heard, Hindsight has been nominated for an award!  
> [Vote Here! ](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1eG8AVsWI8yXd5345oq_7gM9Qu2zgTdSlfGY_f2yrQCw/edit#gid=961481151)  
> 

The days they spent on the ship ended up being a real blessing. They didn’t speak much about what had happened, because neither was ready to really say it out loud. To really acknowledge that they had all lost loved ones. Bulma and Vegeta spent the time resting, mostly. Napping in one another's arms and nibbling sailor rations. They didn’t leave the cabin much, as Vegeta’s new habit of sticking to Bulma like glue made it hard to move about easily. 

Chi-Chi stayed in her room the whole time. On the final day, Raditz came to call. It took them a moment to dress properly before letting him in. Vegeta, Bulma noticed, was rather tense around him, but there was a distinct, deliberate way he seemed to carry himself. As if he had decided to trust his brother and didn’t want to let his previous anger misguide him. 

Raditz lingered awkwardly in the doorway and bowed deeply to them.  
“Good Morning, Princess, Sire,” he said to Vegeta who scoffed and shook his head.  
“Did you stop being my brother when father banished you?” Vegeta taunted. “Then address me as such.” Raditz looked up at Vegeta then down at his hands in what looked like… shame.  
“I’m not sure I ever was your brother,” the tall man said softly. Vegeta looked at him sharply and the two locked eyes for a long moment while Bulma took little steps towards the door. 

They clearly needed to be alone, but Raditz was inadvertently blocking the door. Vegeta reached out and pinched the fabric of her dress to keep her by his side.  
“Stay?” He asked. His tone a bit rough and barkish, but there was a softness in his eyes that told her he was desperate for her presence right now, and that she wasn’t intruding. 

Raditz was looking at the ground again, so Bulma gestured to the little seating area in the room, a table with four chairs.  
“Please, sit.” He nodded and did as she asked. 

When they were all seated, Vegeta broke the tense silence.  
“So, you know?” He leaned back in his seat. “About Bardock, and your… our mother.” Raditz looked up, shocked.  
“How did you know?”  
“I went North after I got word of the gas attack. As I gathered our family to bury them… I found her in bed with him,” Vegeta explained. That seemed like more thennough information for Bulma’s liking. She covered her hand with her mouth, her jaw slacked from the shocking revelation. 

“Oh no.” Raditz shook his head and buried his face in his hands out of frustration. 

“So how did you know?” Vegeta demanded. 

“I… walked in on them once. When I was ten, or so.” He took a deep breath to calm himself. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I figured it didn’t matter. Bardock was our uncle. We were still the grandsons of the previous king, so it wasn’t a huge stretch - and you were definitely father’s son. And you were going to be king. Marrying a princess and being king of some foreign land was still something possible for the cousins of the prince, so I figured it… wouldn’t change anything, except to drag our mother and uncle through the mud. Well. My mother,” Raditz shrugged. 

“She was my mother too. I know she didn’t birth me, but she raised me. She never let wet nurses or handmaid's care for me. She was always there. I didn’t even know she wasn’t my blood mother until after Goku was born.” He took a deep breath. 

If Bulma understood this right, it meant that Goku, Raditz, Fasha, and Tarble were all, likely, Bardock’s children and not Vegeta Sr’s. It meant they weren’t Vegeta’s siblings at all, but his cousins. Unless some of them were the Kings. 

“I think it’s just Goku and me, who were uh… Bardock's,” Raditz pondered. “Fasha and Tarble look so much like Father that I can’t imagine…” 

“Lord knows Mother and Father were handsy enough. I wonder why she would… she seemed so in love with him, all the time. How could she… betray him like that? He was always a good husband to her. He always sought her counsel, respected her, and doted on her.” Vegeta shook his head in disbelief. Bulma slid her hand across the table to wrap around his. 

“Maybe Father was sterile after you, Vegeta. He got the pox after you were born, right? And that’s not uncommon. It’s possible Father arranged it, so he’d have heirs?” Raditz suggested. Vegeta nodded, but it seemed like clasping at straws. 

“We can’t know,” Bulma said. “We’ll never know. So, what do you want to do now?” She asked, trying to help the conversation keep moving, to ease the pain of this reveal a little. 

“When we get to the capital, I’ll sail back South,” Raditz explained. 

“No,” Vegeta said surely. “You are no longer banished. The royal family needs you more than ever now that we’re all that’s left. Stay in the Isle of Life, take some lordship and marry a princess or something.” 

“Oh um….” Raditz rubbed the back of his neck a bit tensely. He looked a bit embarrassed. “I can stay in the Isle, but I’ve sworn myself to someone. I’m already married, actually.” There was a long moment of shocked silence while they stared at him. 

Bulma coughed. “She can… come live with you, of course. I um… how did you come by this… union?” She said, phrasing her words as carefully as she could. 

“Oh!” His face lit up. “She beat the shit out of me, and I just… sort of fell for her. She’s incredible. Most badass woman I’ve ever known. Weird, but amazing. She’s taught me a lot, in the last few months,” he grinned. “You’ll like her, Vegeta,” he promised. 

“So, you’re not raping her, then?” Vegeta asked, harshly. Raditz face fell, and he shook his head.  
“No, of course not. I learned my lesson when Piccolo cut my hands off, and… by the way, Princess - that healing.... thank you. I found out once I was with Frieza that it was you doing the healing. Thank you. I don’t know why you did it but thank you. These hands…. Have only been used for good. I promise.” 

He looked down at the aforementioned hands. To Bulma’s eye they looked like the same ones that he’d used to paw at her chest - but they were different. She’d seen them grow back herself. But it wasn’t his hands that assaulted her, it was him. It was the person inside who had made the decision. 

She didn’t trust him. She would never fully trust him, but she also wasn’t afraid of him. Not for herself. It was for the other women in his life she feared for. 

“So, the plan I suppose is once we get to the Capitol, you go back to Chao and fetch this wife of yours, and then-” 

“Nah. I’ll just send her a pigeon. Faster. She won’t need me to come collect her, she can travel on her own,” he grinned and looked between them. Bulma eyed him weirdly. He had a lot more scars now than he had before, including one on his left forearm that looked gnarly. 

Vegeta smirked. “Must be strong if you’re willing to let her travel alone.” 

“Yeah, like I said! She is!” 

Bulma thought of the trials Chi-Chi faced traveling alone and felt a pang of anger towards Raditz.  
“Are you being lazy, though? Surely she would be safer with a traveling companion.” She asked. Vegeta looked sideways at her, brow raised.  
“Do you think a woman can’t travel alone?” He asked in disbelief. 

“No! I know she can - look at Chi-Chi! But… She was accosted and attacked constantly - and maybe she wouldn’t have been if she’d had someone huge, like Raditz, with her. I’m sure this Wife of yours is able to make it through all of that on her own. But it would be… decent of you, Raditz, if you went to join her. I could send you with a ship to pick her up so that it’ll be a comfortable, safe ride. Women traveling alone are a lot more likely to be assaulted or attacked and raped and - while she might be badass enough to fight them off - if you loved her you wouldn’t make her go through that.” 

Vegeta nodded in understanding and turned his gaze back to Raditz. 

“Princess, Brother - if you’ll pardon me for saying… royals haven’t the faintest idea of what the world is like. My wife isn’t a princess. She’s not a lady or even a merchant's daughter. She grew up poor, and in a hard place. The culture is different there. You say queen Chi-Chi made it to the Isle alone? The Cold’s seemed to think she was saved by someone - but that’s beside the point. Royals like us have a way of carrying themselves that makes them a target. I was accosted a lot too, but it’s because the bandits could spot a royal a mile away. It’s definitely harder for a woman, as they are targeted for rape too - but my wife can travel just fine by herself. For me to show up and collect her like that would be seen as a huge insult to her ability to care for herself. It would offend her. When I send word, I can send some coin though, to make the trip easier for her if you insist on helping her travel,” he shrugged. Bulma narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed at his words, but she decided that her cluttered mind didn’t need another worry, so she listened to him.

“Alright. You arrange it,” she said with a shrug. 

“So, what’ll happen when we get to the capitol?” Raditz asked. 

“You’ll be exonerated for acts of heroism, and then we work on arranging for the people of Vegeta to move South. We can’t keep any of them up there, not really. It’s too cold and too hard to defend now that the army is… gone. The Navy, though, should be alright. A lot of them, anyway. We’ll have them gather in the Northwest Cascades and collect all the citizens left up there and bring them South to rebuild where it’s warm and peaceful. We have land to spare, but I’ll have to clear it with the local Lords and such. Also, we need to get married, have a mass funeral, and then get coronated.” 

“What about the merger?” Vegeta asked, frowning at her. 

“Well…” Bulma trailed off, thinking carefully. She didn’t know if it was a good idea. She didn’t like the possibility of a merger anymore. Before, when the country was still highly populated, it would be closer to 50/50, but now she didn’t think it was right to ask her people to change their culture and national pride for the sake of a few thousand Saiyans. She also didn’t want the Saiyan culture to get lost amongst her own people, and she didn’t want them to accidentally segregate themselves. Maybe it was all in how she sold it? Tell them that the Saiyans would immigrate to the Isle of Life, as brothers, and together they would become a new, stronger, bigger country. She’d have to point out how they’d get the northern land, and how little things would change - though, she knew there would be some huge economic drawbacks to having the North wiped out. 

They were a huge supplier of gems and precious metals, but the important things came from the Isle of Life. The food. Vegeta raised a brow curiously at her while she sat in silence, mind racing. 

“You think we shouldn’t call it a merger? You think we should just, absorb the Saiyans into the Isle of Life?” He glared. She hadn’t said any of that, of course, but he seemed to know from her face.  
“No,” she said firmly. “That’s a bad idea. But, I’m thinking about how we’re going to merge the two countries. Any major law or policy changes to meet in the middle ground with the Saiyans will be resented by my people because there will be so few Saiyans left. I’m not sure what to do about it actually. They have a lot of national pride, The people of the Isle, and the Saiyans. “Neither will want to give up much of their culture or their nationality.” 

There was silence while they sat there in thought. “Vegeta, who’s in charge of the Northwest Cascades?” She asked. “What lord owns those lands?” 

“It used to be Paragus, but when he died it went to his son, Broly. I’m not sure he made it.” 

“I see.” Bulma tapped her chin thoughtfully. “The biggest differences between the two lands is that the Isle has a parliament, and each member is elected by the people to represent. I would invite them to join, as is my right as ruler - but it’s expected I’ll choose the representative that the people chose. In the North, your lands are all owned by various Lords, and they pledge their swords and lands and people to the one King, right?” Bulma tried to wrack her grief-stricken mind for the information her tutors hammered into her as a child. 

“Right,” Vegeta agreed. “I see the problem. The Lord of the North West Cascades won’t want to give up power, but the people of the Isle won’t stand for their rights being taken away like that.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “The best way to do this for the people would be to examine each policy from both countries and then go with the one that expands the people’s rights. If we take any rights, or privileges from anyone then they’ll surely riot. But no one would say ‘no’ to having rights given. Broly might be a problem though. Paragus was a very fair, and generous ruler to the people on his lands. It’s the best place in the North to live, really. The most temperate, anyway. It’s got the only warm water port in the country, so it gets the most trade and has the best farms. It’s pretty far South, too. Comparatively,” he hummed thoughtfully. “If we ask Broly to join parliament, as a representative of his lands, and establish the new government in a way that makes it clear after he dies of old age, the lands will belong to the government and the people… it might work.” 

“He’ll really go for that?” Bulma asked. 

“Maybe. I remember him being something of a pushover when I knew him,” Vegeta sighed and shrugged. 

“There’s not a lot more we can do until we get to the capitol. Invite Broly to us and any other Lords you think might be left alive after the gas. Send word to your Navy, and let them know you’re alive, and that you’re well.” Bulma stood up and kissed Vegeta’s temple. 

“We can make this work,” she said. “We have to make this work.” 

The three left the small room and emerged to a skyline filled with green and pink. They had officially left the sea and gone onto the river that would take them to the capitol. The castle had a private bay so small ships could sail directly to it, but it wasn’t deep enough for this ship. They would have to board a smaller lifeboat and sail to the dock. 

Much later, as the sun sat low in the sky, they finally arrived at the Capitol. When the castle came into their view, Bulma went to get Chi-Chi and tell her they had arrived.  
The four royals and the prisoner loaded up onto the small rowboat, along with two sailors, and the captain. He held a blue flag with the Brevis house symbol to let the guards know it was Bulma, and to let them dock. As they got their seating, Raditz handed Bulma the sword she’d used in Chao to kill King Cold. 

“Oh!” She said, a bit surprised. She’d kept it mostly out of habit when she’d climbed onto Vegeta’s shoulder. 

“It’s actually a pretty amazing blade. It belonged to the very first Queen of Vegeta. King Cold had somehow gotten his hands on it, and when I noticed it - he offered it to me in exchange for information. It’s an heirloom and a fantastic blade. It’s forged from the metal of a comet, made back when Saiyans still lived in the Jungle. We’ve lost the technique to time, but it’s unbreakable.” 

Vegeta looked at the blade in surprise.  
“I hadn’t noticed it missing from the vaults,” he shrugged. 

“It’s not really proper for a ‘Lady’ to use weapons in the Isle of Life. Women, sure but not Ladies. I think…. “ She looked over the blade. Now that she really examined it, she could see how fine it was despite the simple, unflashy hilt. “I’ll carry it in with me like a powerful Northern Queen would. It’ll be the first metaphorical step in merging the two cultures,” she decided. 

Vegeta looped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek fondly.  
“Don’t forget Cold’s head.” He picked up a wrapped bundle from between his feet and handed it to her. She paled a bit at the smell of it. She felt sick at the idea of touching it again, but even more so at the reminder that she had killed someone. 

“Right. This too.” 

When they got close enough to the castle’s dock to be seen, Bulma stood up. There was a commotion on shore, guards running around - back and forth as she approached. Just as they got to the dock and climbed out of th eboat, Krillin burst out of the castle and stared wide-eyed at Bulma. 

“PRINCESS!” He ran to her - ducking past Vegeta and threw his arms around her. She held him back as best she could while Vegeta glared at him. 

“I’m okay. We all are.” 

“Thank the gods.” He let her go and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. “Vegeta - Oh man-” He turned to Vegeta and then hugged him. Vegeta looked so stiff at first that Bulma almost laughed. “Thank you, for bringing her back. We’d be lost without our princess, and you saved her-” 

“Well, she actually saved herself.” Vegeta removed himself from Krillin’s hug and hit him on the back, hard. Krillin just laughed and shook his head. 

“Sorry, yeah - I just - I’m happy to see you guys. Tell me everything, and come on, I’m sure you’ve had a long trip and there’s a lot to do.” 

“I know,” Bulma sighed and followed Krillin, Vegeta at her side. 

They got through the main doors and into the throne room. The rumble of noise from the group of people gathered at the throne fell silent. Bulma led the way now, sword in one hand, and King Cold’s head in the other. She marched up the long walk to the throne, head high and feeling very proud. She could see the old men of parliament, all staring at her open-mouthed. She would show them. She would show them that she was strong. 

But as she got close enough to really see them - Piccolo stood up, his head rising above the rest of them, his head wrapping and cloak as white as ever. 

He was alive! 

Bulma dropped the sword and the head at the sight of him. He pushed through the crowd and into the aisle leading up to the throne. She ran to him and he rushed to her until the two collided in a hug. Tears burst out of Bulma as his arms closed around her and she felt the safe familiar feeling of his cloak as it fell over his shoulders and shielded her partly from view. 

“You’re alive!” She cried and squeezed him as hard as she could. He squeezed her back and stroked her head. 

“So are you! You idiot girl. How could you just take off to the South like that?! I have been worried sick! I’ve been trying to spin this disaster into a something that wouldn’t frighten or worry the people-” 

“How are you alive! You were in Vegeta when the gas-” She was sobbing so much she could barely get the words out. 

“The gas doesn’t work on Namekians,” he said exasperatedly. “I told you that before. You never listen,” he scolded, but he was half laughing. “You’re okay, though. You’re okay. What took you so long getting back?” He parted from her enough to look her over. 

“I killed King Cold, and Chi-Chi killed Cooler. It was… it was close,” she admitted and looked over her shoulder for the sword and head. Vegeta had picked them up and held them out. Piccolo’s eyes widened at the sight of the head. 

“Is that?!” 

“King Colds head? Yeah. As proof.” She pushed her hair out of her face and wiped her eyes. “Ember… didn’t make it,” she said, her tone careful because she knew she would cry again if she were asked to elaborate. Piccolo placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“We’ll have a small service for him,” he explained. “And everyone else who died in the North.” She nodded and sniffled. Piccolo smiled at her and she actually felt a little better. He looked as relieved as she felt until his eyes scanned Vegeta, Chi-Chi, and… Raditz. His face fell and he reached for the curved blade on his hip. Raditz took several quick steps back. 

“He saved us, Piccolo. When he was banished he used his old title to get in with the Cold’s and try to sabotage them. It worked. He’s the one who warned Fasha about the fog and he sort of… distracted King Cold so he could give me the sword I used to kill him. He’s been pardoned of all crimes by Vegeta.” 

Piccolo narrowed his eyes and glared daggers at Raditz.  
“I still don’t like you. If I see you within ten feet of Bulma, ever, I’ll cut your damn hands off again.” He stood up at his impressive, full height and Raditz nodded, head hung in shame. 

The members of parliament had been milling around them while Piccolo and Bulma were reunited. 

“Princess,” Roshi greeted. “It’s a delight to see you safe again.” 

“Oh! Yes!” She took the sword and head from Vegeta and held them up. “King Cold and his eldest son are DEAD. We’ve taken his only remaining son captive, and the city if Chao has been overrun with the dead.” 

There were applause and cheers. Roshi waited with a calm smile on his face while the members of parliament cheered and hooted in their surprise and glee. That meant no open war. That meant peace. 

“That’s wonderful news, Princess! We have much, much to discuss.” Roshi, business as ever said once the noise had died down a little. “First, we need to talk about the remaining Saiyans and the wedding between you and King Vegeta.” He nodded towards the said King and Bulma nodded in return. “Yes, I think so too.” She stepped past Roshi and stood on the raised dais by the throne. 

“The Saiyans have always been strong, loyal allies. We cannot ask the remaining Saiyans to absolve their culture and national pride by just absorbing into the Isle of Life. What we need instead, is a merger between the two nations that takes the best of both.” There was silence as the members looked around at one another, skeptically. 

“A merger? Princess, I’m not sure such a thing would be wise. To do so would be… to end The Isle of Life.” He stroked his beard. 

“Yes, in some ways it would, and in the end, we would have a stronger, better nation. One that encompasses the values of both nations.” 

“In the North….” Gero stood up, slowly. “It’s within the right of the Lords to dictate religious law to their citizens and make them follow it. Goodness, it was only … ten years ago, when a man was hung for the “crime” of homosexuality. We would never intend to make such things possible here. We are, in many ways more democratic than-” 

“On a national level, we have no laws against such things. It’s more a cultural opinion some hold.” Vegeta corrected. “And most of the Lords are dead now anyway, with a few exceptions.” He crossed his arms and looked very stubborn. Bulma frowned thoughtfully at him. 

“I’m merely suggesting that a merger would be a poor idea when we could simply make the remaining Saiyans citizens. They can still practice their faith and their religion and we’ll still be the land that took them in. The country that aided them and saved them, and with the way culture spreads, we will inevitably change as a result.” 

“I won’t ask my people to migrate to a land where a woman can’t join parliament,” Vegeta said firmly. That got Bulma’s attention. 

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully. 

“Your land doesn’t even have a parliament. It’s just got Lords who own the lands and the people have no say in who speaks for them. How is that better?” Roshi asked, his mustache bristling with his discontent. 

Vegeta scoffed. 

“For now,” Bulma exhaled to calm herself. “We wait to discuss this until we get word back from the North and see exactly how many people there are left. That will decide a lot.” 

“Wise. In the meantime, Princess. We should arrange your coronation, and a mass funeral for the people in the North.” 

“Agreed.” Bulma scanned the crowd of old men around her before her eyes fell the High Priest. She hadn’t seen him since her father's funeral. He would inevitably want to help with the mass funeral, but she doubted very much he’d respect the ways of the North. That would just create more conflict.  
“High Priest would you and Piccolo work together in organizing the coronation so I can give my full attention to the people and the funeral?” Bulma asked. 

The High Priest looked mildly surprised.  
“Princess, I’m honored you would entrust such a ceremony to me. It’s the holiest in the land to be sure,” he said with a forced air of calmness over what was clearly bubbling excitement at being given such an important job. 

“Yes, it is. So, who better? And Piccolo, I trust you more than I trust myself.” 

“I’d be happy too. If that’s settled, then we should talk in private. You and the King.” 

“Of course.” 

“First,” Roshi said, stepping forward and bowing to Chi-Chi. “Fire mountain was a small, but fierce country. Is there any hope of restoring it?” 

“No,” Chi-Chi shook her head. “I’ve heard the natives have taken it back. And good. I don’t want it anyway.” 

“Hm. Very well.” 

“Queen Chi-Chi is my guest for as long as she wishes to be,” Bulma said, remembering that she had to formally claim the dark-haired woman as her guest. “And so are Prince Raditz and King Vegeta.” 

“Ah good. Now that we’ve settled that, I think we’re done.” 

“Thank you, Good evening.” Bulma nodded curtly to Roshi and the rest of her parliament before excusing herself and retiring to a more comfortable meeting room. As soon as they were out of sight of parliament, Vegeta hooked his arm around Bulma’s waist and pulled her to him. 

“We have to be careful now,” she whispered. “The engagement is official, so we can’t be alone together. They’ll-” 

He made a sound that silenced the room. A very deep, primal sound that was almost a growl. For a moment, she thought she saw his eyes flash red.  
“I can’t,” he said plainly. 

Bulma wished she understood what he needed better – was it just to be with her, to see her safe? She was perfectly safe now but this was different. 

“You can’t?” She asked and turned towards him, letting her chest press against his to ease his mind and remind him that he was hers. 

He took a deep, slow breath and shook his head. “We need to find a way. A way for it to… for it to work.” 

Bulma threw a worried look towards Piccolo, Chi-Chi, and Raditz. She didn’t know if it would be possible to spend the nights with him now that they were engaged and everyone knew she was romantically interested in him. But that wasn’t the problem. Something in Vegeta’s eyes told her this wasn’t something he was willing to negotiate on.  
End.


End file.
